All The World's A Stage
by n1ght3lf
Summary: Tendou Nabiki has built a successful and profitable life for herself as a financial planner in Tokyo, putting the tragedies of her adolescent life in Nerima behind her. That is, until a company trip to see a Takarazuka Revue show brings the chaotic events of those days back into her life - and maybe, just maybe, give her one last chance at happiness.
1. Their Entrances And Their Exits

All The World's A Stage

By nightelf

A work of fanfiction based on Takahashi Rumiko's Manga series, Ranma 1/2

Saotome Ranma, Saotome Genma, Saotome Nodoka, Tendou Akane, Tendou Soun, Tendou Kasumi, Tendou Nabiki, Kuonji Ukyou, Hibiki Ryouga, P-chan, Shan Pu, Mu Tsu, Kunou Tatewaki, Kunou Kodachi, Ono Toufuu, and Ninomiya Hinako are copyright 1987, 2018 by Takahashi Rumiko. Tenou Haruka and Kaiou Michiru are copyright 1991, 2018 by Takeuchi Naoko. All other characters are copyright 2018 nightelf. All rights reserved.

Publishing rights:

Japan: Shogakukan Inc. Tokyo

Hong Kong: Jademan (Holdings) Ltd.

North America: Viz Inc.

Chapter One of Four: Their Entrances and Their Exits

* * *

Akimoto Ran moved into position, striking a dramatic pose for the opening of the show. She cut a dashing figure in a Victorian-era scientist's suit and lab coat; her brutally short, fiery-red hair glowed amidst the working lights of the stage. She gave a brilliant grin to the waiting crowd, her eyes twinkling with excitement as the lights dimmed in anticipation of the curtain's rise.

Cosmos Troupe was formed to be the most experimental of the Takarazuka Revue's troupes, and her role in the troupe certainly reflected that. Performers tended to specialize, either thriving as otokoyaku or musumeyaku, playing almost exclusively male or female roles within their performances. Officially, she was listed as an otokoyaku; that said, she'd developed into something quite different from the norm. Whether by accident or by necessity, she'd developed a unique repertoire, a reputation that she could take either role as needed. And, in the rare instance where someone in-between was needed, she fit the bill perfectly.

In short, she was the mirror to the gender roles that Takarazuka played with - the zuka's zuka. Which was why she was selected to work with the new troupe, Cosmos. The first show Cosmos officially performed was a dinner show with her as the star; she'd played a leading role in all of Cosmos' performances since.

For the most part, she didn't even need to try playing the male role. The male roles came naturally to her, more naturally than the female ones; in fact, it was her female roles that tended to be exaggerated and comic. Her current lead billing was no exception - a comic, gender-bending version of Jekyll and Hyde.

The opening scenes served as appetizer for the show's plot, a gentle romance between Jekyll and Beatrix Emery; Ran inwardly smiled at the innocent, bright chemistry between herself and Akiko, the musumeyaku acting as Emery. It reminded her of her own teenage years, clumsy romances and stutter-steps into love and relationships, the typical story of the young. Those scenes set the stage for the love triangle to come, as Ran paraded through Jekyll's lab with a singular obsession, working on her formulas and serums. She understood that obsession all too well; anyone who'd gone as far as she had in her specialties understood the dedication and sacrifice needed.

Dedication and sacrifice that, in her case both on stage and in real life, led her to drink the serum.

It was for scenes such as this that she had become famous. The revue had timed how long it took for Ran to "transform", to shift from one costume to another; in one of their recent books about the revue, they even showed time-lapse photos of her costume changes. Such shifts, for most performers, were such that they took minutes, especially for such complicated outfits as a man's suit. Ran, by comparison, could go from wearing a full man's suit to a woman's wig, skirt, and heels - and back - in less than a second. With a few shifts of lighting, she didn't even need to duck out of sight; to the view of the audience, she simply blurred, and became someone else.

In other words, _The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Miss Hyde_ was written with her skills in mind. Miss Hyde, of course, would begin to woo a man of her own, in this case her colleague, Dr. Lanyon; the scenes between herself and Haruka, the otokoyaku playing Lanyon, were designed to be steamy, illicit affairs, a dark romance as counterpoint to the light of her relationship with Emery. All throughout the show, as Ran wavered between the respectable, gentlemanly Dr. Jekyll and the scandalous, sensuous Miss Hyde, the question was put forth: who would come out on top?

The answer at the end was typical of the attitude of Cosmos Troupe: neither. In the final scene, she stood there in a wig, slacks, and heels, without the brazenness of Hyde, nor the masculine edges of Jekyll. She was herself, both man and woman, somewhere in between, no longer at any of the extremes, but at a compromise. And, also as typical of Cosmos, both Lanyon and Emery accepted her - and each other. It was the ending she would have hated in her youth, an ending she would have dreamed of now.

It was an ending she'd never have.

The show completed, the bows and encores taken care of, Ran washed off the stage makeup and took off the costume. She took her time to shower away the night's grime and sweat, letting herself melt in the hot water. Preparing for the real world was a routine she'd gotten used to; makeup was a part of that now, as was the right underwear and sanitary products. Her preparations complete, she zipped up the side of her slacks, donned a black fedora, and gave herself one last appraisal in the mirror, checking for any flaws, any imperfections.

Seeing none, Akimoto Ran - formerly Saotome Ranma - picked up her purse, slipped on her shoes at the door, and walked into the Takarazuka night.

* * *

After what seemed an eternity, Nabiki sat back in her chair, stunned.

Ranma was alive. Thriving, if the playbill in her hands was any indication. The irony was positively thick in the air - Ranma, born male, playing both male and female roles in an all-female acting troupe. She looked at the kanji characters for the lead's name – the "orchid" of Ran's name, along with the surname of Nodoka's family - and fought to keep tears from welling up in her eyes.

Still, she sat there in her seat, beyond shocked. She'd suspected Ranma's survival… hoped, really… but didn't realize it until the curtain rose and Ran's voice filled the theater. The ending… dear God, how things ended… she couldn't even begin to process what had happened.

Her heart sunk as she realized another, horrifying thought. To the world, to the audience, it had been comedy - all of her colleagues had chuckled and tittered through the romance scenes and Jekyll/Hyde's identity problems. Nabiki knew better; after all, she had watched Ranma's Jekyll-and-Hyde life firsthand. Nabiki could hear the sincerity in Ranma's voice, the innocent earnestness of Jekyll, the sensual darkness of Hyde, the confusion of that in-between world, and could recognize why the comedy worked: Ranma had believed every line.

In other words, Ranma wasn't acting - and she was the only one in the audience to realize it.

She dimly heard a voice calling her. "Nabiki?"

Nabiki blinked and looked over at Nami, her colleague. "Yes, Nami?"

"Are you all right?" She tilted her head to one side. "I noticed you didn't laugh much through the show."

Nabiki shook her head, a maelstrom of emotions warring inside of her. "I knew the lead when we were growing up. She was… my God, I can't even talk about it."

Nami blinked at the words. Very few things fazed Nabiki; she realized that, to Nami's ears, she must be near panic. "N… Nabiki?"

Nabiki took several deep breaths to calm down. "Nami… there was an incident. When I was in high school. Basically, someone with enough influence to get away with murder started killing people. Including my younger sister." Nami gasped; Nabiki glanced down at the playbill for confirmation. "The lead… Ran… the killer bragged about her death, too. But she escaped. She escaped." Nabiki's tears wouldn't be denied; her mascara made tracks along her cheeks. She managed a brave smile. "She always was a survivor."

Nami's eyes widened, her hand covering her mouth in shock. Nabiki chose that moment to test her shaking legs; she rose from her chair, using the armrest to steady herself. "I need a drink." She carefully eased her way out of the aisle and to the exit, to join up with the others.

What had been a company trip, it seemed, was going in a very different direction.

* * *

Nabiki stared blearily up at the night sky, pondering the life she'd left behind, a saucer of sake in her hand. The investment firm didn't skimp, and she was grateful for that; the onsen was top-notch, with quality drinks to go along with the ethereal forest around them.

She needed its tranquility - and the alcohol, too. The thoughts she was having she'd thought long buried. She'd even considered therapy once, but decided it wasn't needed, that she could live with it, that the past was done.

"You seem deep in thought, Nabiki."

Nabiki looked up at her boss, an older woman with a long, thin face and brutally-short gray hair. Hiromi had already known about some of Nabiki's past, including what had happened to Akane. Nabiki shrugged; there was no point in hiding the rest. "I was thinking about the three most terrifying days of my life, Hiromi."

Hiromi took a sip of her own sake. Nabiki knew Hiromi didn't mean to appear imperious, but Hiromi's standing position, along with her concerned frown, presented itself as such. "I'd heard that you were troubled by the Revue show, but didn't hear why." She tilted her head to one side. "Though I can't imagine why the show would trouble you…"

Nabiki gave Hiromi a lazy grin, helped by the alcohol in her system. "Then you've never met Saotome Ranma – or Akimoto Ran, as she's apparently calling herself now."

"Akimoto Ran… Oh!" Her eyes lit up. "You mean…"

"There were two branches of the school of martial arts my family specialized in. One was the Tendou branch. It's now the Ono branch, and the reason why it's the Ono branch, well…" Nabiki took a sip of her sake. "The other was the Saotome branch – though I guess the name of that branch has changed, too, if Ranma was accepted into her mother's clan. It's why Akimoto Ran could change costumes so quickly; speed was one of the hallmarks of her branch of the Art."

Hiromi frowned. "Is she a threat? Did she…"

Nabiki saw the direction the conversation was going, and waved her hand. Hiromi looked after her own; it was one of the things that inspired loyalty within the group - Nabiki included. "No, no! Nothing like that!" She grimaced. "Well, unless you were foolish enough to murder her fiancee."

If anything, Hiromi's gaze intensified. "Who was her fiancee?" she demanded.

"My younger sister."

Hiromi gaped.

"Ranma was raised as a boy; even shows up in the records as a boy. She's been presenting herself as male for a long time." Nabiki smiled inwardly; it wasn't a lie, after all. "It would take a long time to explain, but they were targeted by someone rich enough to have connections and psychotic enough to not care about things like morals." Nabiki's face grimaced in pain, old memories burning to the surface. "Akane was killed, strangled by a gymnastics ribbon; everyone knew who did it, but the killer got off."

"I… I'm sorry," Hiromi forced out. "I knew your sister had been murdered, but…"

"That, unfortunately, was the first act." Nabiki nervously rubbed her thumb against the cup of sake. "I've been going over the events and, if what I think is true, then Ranma was more clever than anyone gave her credit for." She gestured with her free hand. "You see, if you look up the records, Saotome Ranma was last seen on January 17, 1988; she was declared missing, presumed dead, shortly thereafter." She raised her dish of sake. "That morning, Ranma asked if she could borrow my turtleneck sweater. She thanked me, shut the door… and I never saw her again." Her lips twitched. "Until tonight."

Hiromi blinked, fitting the pieces together. "She knew this murderer would go after her, and try to strangle her… so she put some protection against that in her sweater." She sent a questioning gaze in Nabiki's direction. "And faked her death after the attempt?"

Nabiki nodded. "Seems like. When Kodachi - the killer - started bragging the next day that she'd killed Ranma as well, and continued her deranged demands against my family, we knew we were likely next. We were on a war footing. We called in every favor we had, old friends who owed us or the Saotomes - and our families had collected many favors over the years. The dojo could no longer be in our name; it was initially going to go to Ranma and Akane, the heirs of the school, but they were dead. My sister Kasumi married Ono Toufuu - a local chiropractor and martial artist - and the dojo passed to them."

"Wait." Hiromi raised a hand to stop Nabiki's tale. "Why couldn't the dojo be in your name?"

Nabiki's mouth suddenly felt very dry. "We were going to declare blood feud on Clan Kunou - Kodachi's clan."

Hiromi boggled. "Blood feud? In this day and age? That's insane!"

"That was my reality," Nabiki corrected. "For three days, Father and I were planning to fight a war, against an opponent who had far more resources than we did, a war that we probably wouldn't survive." She shakily filled her saucer with more sake. "Imagine… you're eighteen years old, about to go to college… and, instead of studying for entrance exams, you're writing your will, and pondering your death poem. I wasn't a warrior, wasn't a fighter; I only had my wits."

Hiromi slumped against the door frame, sliding down into a sitting position opposite Nabiki. "…. Wow. That's… that's messed up. I'm guessing cooler heads prevailed?"

Nabiki gave Hiromi a death's head grin, the sort of smile that would have sent her old classmates running. "Quite the opposite, really. Kunou Manor burned down before we could post the notices. Kodachi kept some interesting chemicals in the house; the firefighters couldn't get close, due to the fumes. Eventually, they just had to let the place burn - with all three Kunous still inside."

Nabiki looked up at the gibbous moon hanging in the sky. The Kunous were long dead, and Ranma was still alive. That, at least, was something to cherish. "The fire started in Kodachi's laboratory. The bi… that person's body was found there, with injuries and residue consistent with an explosion. After an investigation, the fire was ruled an accident." She raised her dish, a toast to any gods willing to listen. "Couldn't happen to a nicer psychopath."

Hiromi raised an eyebrow. "You think Ranma…"

"Don't know. Don't care, really. Ranma's family. And if she did kill Kodachi, she saved lives - including my own." She looked back at Hiromi, and reflected on the similarities between her mentor and the teenaged Ranma she remembered. "You'd have liked Ranma, Hiromi. Completely unrefined – and had no room at all for bullshit. She'd tell you the truth, regardless of what you thought of it." She snorted, laughter and tears mixing in equal amounts within her. "Needless to say, her relationship with my sister – with all of us – well… it had its ups and downs."

Hiromi eyed Nabiki carefully. "You still care for her. Don't you." The last sentence was said as statement, rather than question.

Nabiki didn't bother denying it. "Always will, Hiromi. Can't say I always have - I was a shallow little twit when I was younger." She looked down at her cup of sake, and drained it in one gulp. "But I always will."

* * *

"Hey, Mom. I'm home."

Ranma unlocked the door to her apartment, stepped inside, and slipped off her shoes. She padded into the living area, where her mother sat at table, a pot of tea waiting.

Ranma paused for a moment, taking in the scene – her mother kneeling at the table, a spread of cookies on the table, a teapot steaming, two plates and empty mugs on each side, neatly placed as though expecting company. A newspaper set off to one side, which meant that day's paper had an article about the production. The pattern was a familiar one: no matter how late Ranma came home, her mother waited for her with snacks and tea. Circumstance and tragedy had given Ranma an appreciation for small moments such as these; she sat down opposite Nodoka, and waited for her mother to pour a cup.

Nodoka smiled, and picked up her teapot. "Welcome home, Ranma. How was tonight?"

"No major surprises," Ranma admitted as Nodoka poured. "Akiko's growing into the role; she's starting to figure out just how to react to the strangeness. For Haruka, it's old hat; it's just fun when we're on stage. Of course, considering she posed as a boy before ever coming to Takarazuka…"

"Indeed," Nodoka agreed, setting her teapot down. "There's a reason Haruka is where she is. It's the difference between acting like a man, and living it. Some things can't be faked, after all."

"True enough." Ranma twirled a cookie in her hands. "Sometimes I'd like to find Ucchan and just have some of the otokoyaku spend a day with her, just to get a feel for what it's like to live like that. Some of the new girls… they fake it, but you can tell they fake it." A silly thought struck Ranma; the cookie paused in her hand. "Oh, there's a fun thought. If I'd been born a girl, would you have trained me for ten years as an otokoyaku?"

Nodoka sipped her tea without apparent reaction. "Of course not, daughter. Now, musumeyaku, on the other hand…"

The cookie in Ranma's hand dropped to the plate, such was Ranma's surprise. She picked up the cookie, and took a bite. "Considering your own past, would that have been wise?"

"Probably not," Nodoka admitted. "I've often wondered how good a mother I would have been to you growing up… a lot of times, I think I wouldn't have been that good. It's… the stage doesn't prepare a person for some parts of life." She shrugged. "I think I would have been better than Genma, but that's not saying much."

Ranma gave her mother a reassuring smile. "You're still the best, Mom." She looked at the spread of tea and snacks on the table. "Thanks for the tea and snacks, by the way."

"You're welcome," Nodoka replied. She took a cookie of her own, and nibbled on it. A quiet pause settled over the table for a minute as they enjoyed their snacks.

For Ranma, the silence quickly became uncomfortable, and with reason. She took a sip of her tea before speaking. "They're thinking of moving me back to Star next year."

"That's a surprise…" Nodoka's brow furrowed as she picked up a cookie. "Any particular reason why?"

Ranma set her mug down. "Chiyoko is retiring."

"Osamu?" Nodoka asked, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

Ranma nodded. "It's been an open secret for awhile; at this point, though, if Chiyoko wants to be an honest woman, well…"

"I see. Not unexpected, at any rate." Nodoka tilted her head to one side. "Any idea what kind of role they have planned for you?"

Ranma shook her head. "Not yet. We'll see how this show goes, first."

"Well, the reviews I've read have been good ones." Nodoka picked up the newspaper next to her, glancing at the article. "I'm just glad they finally found a way to use that clothing trick of yours to good effect."

"Well… It is kind of fun. Speaking of fun... we got permission to do a bit of promotion at the train station tomorrow. Haruka, Akiko and I going to go into makeup a little early, then head down to the station. We're going to perform the waltz, then hang around in character for awhile." She twitched her eyebrows. "The reactions should be interesting."

"Oh, my… Should I come and watch?"

Ranma shrugged. "If you like. It should be entertaining, at least." She took one more sip of her tea, then rose from the table. "I should go to bed. I need to get up early."

Nodoka nodded. "Good night, daughter."

* * *

Nabiki sat in Takarazuka station waiting for the train back to Tokyo, nursing a cup of tea and her thoughts.

The night and morning hadn't provided any answers. She wasn't even sure what the questions were. What did she want from Ranma? Drinks for old time's sake? An explanation of what had happened? Was that even appropriate?

"You didn't get much sleep, did you?"

Nabiki glared over at Hiromi. "Did you expect me to?" She crossed her legs, and sat back in her chair. "At this point, I don't even know what to think." She took a moment to rub the fatigue from her eyes. "I don't even know what to feel at this point, Hiromi. I mourned her, Hiromi. _Mourned_ her. And I felt guilty as hell for a long time that I lived and they didn't."

"And now she's alive." Hiromi sipped her own tea. "You had to have suspected."

"Suspicion is not the same as proof," Nabiki countered. "I… I hoped, after the end… that Ranma had survived. That she'd come back. That, well… we'd find a way to stay a family. It could never be like it was - that wasn't happening with Akane gone - but I thought she'd at least come back if she survived."

Hiromi sighed. "Look at it this way. She survived a murder attempt _by making her killer think she'd succeeded_. With something like that… I'm not sure I'd come back. Given how the police acted, I'm not sure I would take the chance if I were in her position."

Nabiki's voice was suddenly hoarse. "I hate not knowing what to do."

Hiromi smiled knowingly at the words. "You always do. You have always hated not knowing anything, as long as I've known you." She tilted her head to one side. "Look at it like any other problem. What do you want? Start with that."

Nabiki made a face. "The problem is, I don't know what I want. No clue. None at all. It's not like she's going to come waltzing back into my life…"

An elegant waltz began to play from the PA speakers. Nabiki's eyes narrowed. "That is SO not funny."

"I don't know," Hiromi supplied, a grin on her face. "I think it's…" Her voice trailed off as she looked behind Nabiki; her jaw dropped.

Nabiki frowned. "What?" She recognized the song; it was the same waltz the Revue had played during Ranma's performance.

It was at that point that the vocals began - and Nabiki instantly paled.

"She's right behind me, isn't she?"

"Just watch," Hiromi suggested.

Nabiki turned around. One of the climactic scenes in the show was a battle for Jekyll/Hyde's soul; Emery and Jekyll would sing a verse, then Lanyon and Hyde, back and forth, an acting tour de force as Ranma shifted from one character to another. After several verses, the roles would mix, as would Ranma's costume, with Ranma's clothes and identity blurring together in the confusion. How Ranma was able to keep track of the costumes was beyond her; the combinations alone were bewildering.

One thing that hadn't changed about Ranma: presence. She could still own the room - or station, in this case. She just gave everything to what she did; even as the station hovered around them, she performed as though only three people existed in her world. It seemed as though she adjusted reality around her wherever she went, regardless of what anyone else or the universe thought.

The trio finished their routine; Ranma stood there, a schizophrenic mix of clothing on her, her necktie held in Emery's hand like a leash, a shapely stocking-clad leg wrapped around Lanyon. The station erupted in applause; Nabiki found herself joining in.

"Way to go, Ranma!" she shouted, then covered her mouth. Ranma, after all, had been dead for over a decade.

That said, no one paid any mind to the slip. The trio broke their pose and bowed to the crowd, then began conversing in character with the fans. Nabiki raised an eyebrow at Ranma's antics; occasionally, she would shift from one to another, the reserved, gentlemanly Dr. Jekyll giving way to the sultry Miss Hyde - sometimes in mid-sentence. Ranma played the crowd well, talking, joking, occasionally offering one man or another in the audience a sip of Jekyll's new potion - "It'll certainly bring out a different side to you!" - one person took her up on the offer, only for her to exclaim, "Hmmm. Must be a bad batch" - Ranma turned to the side, toward her -

"Hello, Milady! And how are you today?" Jekyll-Ranma appeared before her, hand elegantly offered. Nabiki held out her hand for Jekyll to kiss - but it was Hyde who left a lipstick print on her knuckles.

"I am well, thank you." She smiled. Ranma had to have recognized her to do this - which gave her an opportunity. "Miss Hyde, are you familiar with the work of Doctor Ono?"

Hyde-Ranma put a finger to her chin. "I've worked with many a doctor… Ono? Ono Toufuu, perhaps? Dreamy dark eyes behind those glasses, silky long, midnight-black hair that he puts in a ponytail, and a body to die for? And oh, my, those hands…" Nabiki nodded, eyes twinkling at Ranma's performance. Ranma stage-whispered to the crowd. "Oh, ladies, you haven't lived until you've felt Doctor Ono's hands on you. One time, with just one touch, he left me so weak in the knees… I was completely helpless. Oooh, yes, I remember Ono…" She instantly shifted into her Jekyll persona. "… indeed, a worthy colleague and scholar. The things he's able to do with regard to energy flows and pressure points in the human body is extraordinary. How is Ol' Toufuu doing these days?"

"Quite well," Nabiki offered. "He's likely moved since you last saw him; his clinic is in a larger location in the Nerima district, a dojo near Furinkan. At any rate, he's had some experience with cases similar to yours. You should come by and visit him sometime; I'm sure you would enjoy it."

Ranma nodded. "I will have to look at my schedule, though I would definitely welcome his…" Ranma shifted into Hyde persona, "…insight." The last word was said with a decidedly unwholesome purr. "I will have my maidservant contact him, to arrange a… meeting with him. Yes, a meeting. Until then…" Ranma moved away to talk with others in the crowd; Nabiki's heart rate returned to normal. She'd forgotten just how intense Ranma could be.

Her colleagues from the firm gathered around her, giving her quiet pats on the back for her act. Hiromi simply looked at her. "Nabiki, was that normal for you?"

Nabiki brushed some imaginary lint off of her outfit. "Hiromi, compared to my high school days, that was positively sedate."

"And that you just invited her to your family home was pure coincidence," Hiromi whispered conspiratorially.

"Why not? She lived there herself for a year or two. And if a reunion was going to happen… it would be there." Nabiki reached out, grabbed her cup of tea, and took a satisfying swig, finishing the cup, before throwing it into a nearby trash bin. "One thing about life with Ranma: nothing is ever normal."

"Truer words were never spoken, Nabiki."

Nabiki froze, and slowly turned around. She knew that voice.

The woman that stood there was older than she remembered; of course, thirteen years had passed since they'd seen each other. Her dark brown hair had acquired streaks of gray; she'd developed wrinkle lines around her eyes and mouth. The woman gave a gentle smile to the room, one that Kasumi and her had seemingly patented, but Nabiki herself had never quite mastered. Her clothing was more modern than she remembered; gone was the kimono and sword, replaced with a comfortable blouse and slacks.

Nabiki rushed over, and did something she never would have thirteen years ago: she gave the woman a hug.

"Auntie! How have you been?"

"I've been well." Nodoka smiled; Nabiki idly noticed the crow's feet around her eyes. "I lived and worked in Takarazuka in my own youth; after what happened, I thought it best to bring us back."

Nabiki glanced back at Ranma, who was still working the crowd. "So I see. So… Akimoto Ran?"

Nodoka's eyes twinkled with mirth. "Akimoto is the family I was born into. When everything went so very wrong in Nerima, going back to Takarazuka seemed like a good refuge for us. To muddy the waters, my parents officially adopted Ranma into the family, giving her a new identity, a new life."

Nabiki frowned as another thought entered her consciousness. "And Genma?"

"Died five years ago while training." Nodoka shook her head. "It always saddened him that he was never able to unite the Schools. He may have acted with bluster, but he always blamed himself deep inside." She reached out, and grabbed Nabiki's hand. "So. How is your family?"

Nabiki paused for a moment. "Hmmm…. let's see… you were there for Kasumi and Toufuu's wedding, right?" Nodoka nodded; Nabiki took the opportunity to pull out a wallet full of pictures. "Well, they have three children now. There are the twins, Ranko and Akane - they're eleven - and Katsuo, who's eight." A wry grin crossed her features. "They keep Sis busy. We decided to teach all three of them the Art, including Toufuu's school and our own; after what happened to the last generation, as grisly as it sounds, having more than one person knowledgeable in the Art is a good idea." She flipped forward to another photo, this one of the dojo itself. "We put a second story on the dojo; Toufuu has his clinic on the first floor, while the dojo itself is now on the second." She looked back over at Ranma, still performing, as she put away her wallet. "I take it Ranma still doesn't need to worry about hot water?"

"Not since Herb tried to claim her as a bride…" Nodoka sighed wistfully. "Other than the dating, I don't think she minds anymore."

"Dating?" Nabiki raised an eyebrow.

"It can be hard for people to separate Saotome Ranma the person from Akimoto Ran the performer," Nodoka supplied. "Several women have wanted more of the latter than the former."

"Ah." Nabiki could relate to that; she hadn't had much luck in dating either.

"Nabiki." Hiromi's voice cut through their conversation, instantly garnering Nabiki's attention. "I don't mean to intrude, but our train leaves in five minutes. We should start boarding."

"I..." Nabiki looked between Hiromi and Nodoka, torn between mentors.

Nodoka nodded sagely, clearly understanding the source of Nabiki's hesitation. She opened her purse and pulled out a business card, offering it to Nabiki with both hands. "Ranma's business card."

Nabiki accepted the card, and looked at the information printed there. "Wow. Times really have changed."

"What do you mean?" Nodoka asked.

Nabiki tilted her head to one side. "I never thought of Ranma ever having email, or a cel phone. She always seemed… stuck in time to me." She put the business card away, then looked in her purse for her own. "Here. The first one is my work card; the second is for the Dojo."

"Thanks. I'll see that Ranma gets these. In the meantime… you have a train to catch."

Nabiki nodded. She began to look around…

"Your luggage?" Hiromi rolled Nabiki's luggage toward her before putting a hand on her hips in exasperation. Nabiki blushed, feeling like a newly-minted employee.

"I'll talk to you later, Auntie. Bye!" Nabiki briskly followed Hiromi to the platform to catch her train; they managed to board with a minute to spare. Nabiki took her seat, closed her eyes, and finally allowed herself to relax.

Her life had taken a turn for the strange. Again.

And this time, she was just fine with it.

* * *

"Damn, that was fun." Haruka took a bite from her lunch in the dressing room, her eyes alight with energy; Ranma smiled knowingly as she more methodically ate her own lunch.

Ranma had learned a long time ago that a performance was like a fight. Adrenaline started to flow through the body, gathering the energy it needed for what it perceived as a threat. If the body still had energy after the threat was done, then she would remain excited and energized. If not, then she'd usually need either rest, food, or both. Akiko had once referred to it as the difference between nervousness and excitement; to her, it was just the same words in a different language.

In this case, the trio had performed for a half-hour at most. They still had plenty of energy. Ranma took another bite of her lunch, then put her chopsticks down.

"Thanks for agreeing to do this, guys," Ranma said. "It just sounded like fun to do this in a public setting. And the promotional aspects…"

Akiko's eyes lit up as she daintily ate her lunch. "It was a good idea. We're so used to the stage that sometimes we forget that our characters are - at least in theory - something outside the stage. How would Beatrix act to someone waiting for the train, or a random person on the street?"

Haruka grinned lecherously. "I had a lot more fun romancing the women there. Let's face it; Lanyon's a bit of a pervert. It's always interesting to see how they respond to his advances."

"Is Michiru okay with it?" Akiko asked knowingly.

Haruka fingered the simple gold ring on her left hand. "Michiru has long known that the act is a part of the job. It's never been more than that - and I had to warn Tomo off a few years ago - and she's fine with that, as long as I make it up to her later." She stared off into some far-off space, a goofy grin adorning her lips; for a moment, Ranma was reminded of Dr. Lanyon, her alter ego in the production. "And, well… I've gotten very good at making it up to her later." Haruka shook herself from her clearly-lecherous thoughts, and looked over at Ranma. "How about you, Ran? I saw you having some fun with switching back there…"

"It was…" Ranma's face twisted as she took a moment to find the words. "In my case, I ran into an old friend from high school. She knew what I was like back then, so she could play along with me."

"An 'old friend'?" Akiko asked, an eyebrow raised. "Is it that kind of 'old friend'?"

Ranma snorted. "Her, no. Her sister, on the other hand…" Her mouth suddenly turned dry. "It's a long story. I've actually tried writing my own production based on those years."

"Ah, so it's literally a long story." Haruka's gaze pierced into Ranma. "So. Comedy, or tragedy?"

Ranma just looked at Haruka. "It's me. What do you think?"

"Tragedy, then," Haruka conceded. Her eyes took on a mischievous cast. "So this is the girl that broke Ran's heart?"

"This is the girl that I had to identify at the morgue," Ranma responded flatly.

"Oh, shit," Haruka replied. Silence hung over the dressing room for a minute.

After what seemed an eternity, Akiko broke the silence. "So what was she like, Ran?"

"Akane?" Ranma's eyes misted over. "Wow. Well, she was a martial artist, like me -"

Haruka snorted. "Leave it to Ran to talk about martial arts first. Face? Who cares. Killer bod? Meh. But can she punch through a wall… now THAT'S important!"

"Well, it is!" Ranma replied testily. "There were two families that practiced my family's style of martial arts; hers was the other. And she did have a nice face and 'killer bod'. Short dark hair - no, Haruka, not what you think - cute face…. when she smiled, it was like the whole world lit up. She was fiery and passionate, sometimes overly so; when she believed in a cause, she'd fight for it to the very end." She looked down at the table, her fingers drumming to her own beat, the movement of the fingers absorbing her thoughts. She didn't want to look her friends in the eye at that moment. It still hurt too much. "I still miss her," she finally forced out.

Ranma felt a hand touch her shoulder – Akiko's. "Ran, do you mind if we look at what you have written so far? We might have some ideas on how to improve it."

Ranma nodded shakily, still not willing to meet their eyes. "Yeah. I can do that. Not sure you'll believe all that happened… but I can do that."

"Should be fun to read," Haruka grinned. "I mean, we don't really have much of an idea of what you were like then. Might be nice to have just a nice high-school romance to perform." She grabbed her cup of tea as though it was a beer mug, raised it to her lips, and took a manly gulp. "Besides, it's not like Ran's going to have to change from Jekyll to Hyde in this one, right?"

Ranma stopped at Haruka's words. Her mouth moved up and down as though trying to formulate some sort of response. After several seconds, she just shook her head and grabbed her tea, hiding any facial expressions behind her mug.

Some things, she knew, couldn't be easily described, couldn't be easily believed. The year-and-a-half she'd spent in Nerima definitely qualified.

* * *

Nabiki sat on the couch in her Tokyo apartment, her legs crossed on the leather seat cushion, her laptop glowing faintly on the coffee table in front of her, her eyes closed in thought.

Ranma was back. Transformed in name, transformed in reputation, transformed in life, but still Ranma. Unfortunately, all of that – past and present – left her with a problem she didn't know how to address.

How should she even talk to her?

She'd been trying to write an email ever since coming home from work. Nothing sounded right. She tried formal: "Hello, Ranma. It has been a long time since…" only to discard it. For Ranma, formality was an act, a show to put on; it certainly didn't fit in an email. She tried bubbly. "Hey, Ranma! Great to run into you at the station! How are things?" Anything approaching bubbly died with Akane.

She honestly had no clue as to what to do. Supper hadn't given her any answers, nor had an examination of Ranma's post-Nerima career. She'd wasted an evening, and had nothing to show for it but more questions.

Nabiki rose from her couch, and walked to the coat rack at the entrance of her apartment. When she had no clue, she did have a clue as to who to ask. She rummaged through the chaos inside her Coach bag to pull out her cel phone. She unconsciously smoothed out her sleep pants and crossed her legs as she sat back down on the sofa, a habit from years of talking with clients while making a phone call.

"Ono residence!"

Nabiki had never gotten skilled at telling the difference between the twins' voices; she opted for misdirection. "Hey, it's Nabiki. How are things?"

"Auntie Nabiki!" The voice immediately brightened; that tended to suggest Akane among the twins, but she wasn't completely sure. "Mom said you were taking a trip with your company for a few days."

Banal, bland, 'How's the weather' talk was something Nabiki could do; in this case, it certainly beat the alternative. She naturally fell into normal conversation. "We went to an onsen near Osaka. We saw the sights, did some shopping, went to a show… the usual." A pang of guilt strummed across her features for a moment. "Well, not quite the usual. Is your mom around?"

"Hmmm… not quite the usual." Nabiki immediately revised her initial estimate; Ranko was the quieter, more calculating one of the twins. "You met a guy, didn't you?"

Nabiki sputtered for a moment. "Ra…Ak…Hey!" She took a moment to gather her wits. "I did not 'meet a guy', thank you very much."

"Oh, so you met a girl!" the voice crowed. "Please say you met a girl… I've got a thousand yen riding on this…"

"I… wait, what?" That last statement threw Nabiki for a loop. "What do you mean you have a thousand yen riding on this?"

"Well…" the voice on the other end sounded positively sheepish. "Sis and I made a bet as to why you hadn't gotten married yet. Sis said it was because you hadn't found the right boy. Um… I said it was because you liked girls." The voice paused for a second. "Which is just fine! There's nothing wrong with that!"

Nabiki palmed her face in her hands. "Great. I've got my nieces betting on whether or not I'm a lesbian. Ranko," and she was sure it was Ranko by this point, "it's not that simple. There's a lot to appreciate in both men and women. You have friends that are girls and friends that are boys, right?"

"Well… the boys are still rather immature…"

"They don't grow out of that," Nabiki countered. "But they're still interesting." She felt her heartbeat quicken. "I did meet an old friend from high school, though, and I need to talk to your mom about it."

Ranko cooed. "Oooh, is this going to be one of those romances where the 'old friends' get together and rekindle an old flame?"

If Nabiki could have glared daggers through the phone, she would have. "Just put your mom on the phone, okay?"

Nabiki felt like crawling under the coffee table when Ranko shouted, "Hey, Mom! Nabiki's calling for some dating advice!" Her own sister's bemused tone did not help matters once she picked up.

"So. Nabiki. How was your trip?" Kasumi asked, clearly innocently, clearly not.

Nabiki couldn't help but respond. "Was good, for the most part. We went to the Koyokan Bettai Azale; it's an incredible place. You should take Toufuu there for a night or two if you want to get away from the kids for awhile. We also did some shopping in Osaka, and saw a Takarazuka Revue show."

"Oh, I see!" Kasumi crowed. Nabiki sighed; it was clear to her who Ranko had inherited her speaking mannerisms from. "And has dear Nabiki-chan fallen into an illicit affair with one of its 'actors'?"

"Not quite, sis." The fact as to who she'd met - what she had to do - came crashing down on her. "Um… sis… are you sitting down?"

The change in tone clearly caught Kasumi's attention. She waited a second before responding. "Yes, I am… what's going on?"

Nabiki took a deep breath. "While I was away on my trip… I ran into Ranma."

Silence hung in the air for several seconds, eventually interrupted by a too-young voice in the background asking, "Momma, why are you crying?" A few seconds more, and Nabiki heard the sound of a deep, gathering breath.

"Are you sure?"

Tears started welling in her own eyes at the question. She glanced at the browser window open on her laptop, showing the Revue's web site, 'Miss Hyde' vamped up and in the arms of some otokoyaku. "Yeah. She's an actress in the Takarazuka Revue; look up their 'Dr. Jekyll and Miss Hyde' show on the internet, and you'll understand."

"Dr. Jekyll and Miss Hyde?" Kasumi almost choked the words through the phone.

"Yeah, of all the roles, she ends up with that one, I know." She shook her head. "I ran into both her and Auntie Nodoka in the train station the next day; we exchanged cards, and a basic agreement to meet."

"What about Genma?" Nabiki could almost picture Kasumi's frown as she asked the question. The reputation that the man had among the Tendou sisters was mixed, given the actions he'd taken in raising his child. "Father is going to want to know."

"Died five years ago, apparently," Nabiki supplied. She sighed. "I've been trying to write an email to her to invite her to the dojo, but… don't know what to say."

"I… see." Kasumi gave a shuddering breath. "What are you thinking right now?"

Nabiki winced. Her sister would ask that – one of too many questions she didn't have the answers to. "Other than not knowing the words to invite her? I'm not sure I can think right now. I mean… so much happened that I don't know where to begin parsing through everything I'm feeling. At this point, I'm just trying to find the words for the email."

"I… I can relate to that," Kasumi whispered. "I'm not sure what I'm feeling right now, to be honest." A long pause for a moment almost left Nabiki wondering if her sister was still on the line. "Nabiki…" Kasumi finally spoke, "the only advice I can give is to be yourself, and be honest. No formality; just be honest with her. Don't ignore the past - none of us can - but don't choke on the past, either."

"O… Okay," Nabiki replied.

"By the way, sis…" Kasumi's voice took on a worried tone. "You're not thinking of starting a relationship with her, are you?"

A voice cried in the background, "It is a girl!"; Nabiki ignored it.

Oddly enough, that question was far easier to answer. "Sis, I don't know. I don't know anything right now. Ranma is Ranma is Ranma. Dating her is like dating a force of nature. I might not, but I might get swept up in the tide."

A soft chuckle came from the other end. "Yes, Ranma's like that, isn't she?" The swish of paper being flipped came to the phone. "Should I expect her next weekend?"

Nabiki's fingers moved toward her laptop. She scrolled down to verify the dates of the show. "I'd probably see about two weekends from now, Kasumi. Next weekend is the last weekend for the show in Takarazuka, but it'll take a few more weeks after that for the Tokyo show to start up."

"Okay. I'll start to make the arrangements." The line paused for a moment. "Oh, and sis? Be careful. I love you."

"I love you too, Sis. Say hello to everyone there for me, and tell them I'll be there in two weeks."

"Bye."

"Bye." Nabiki closed her cel phone, and turned back to the computer. She had a better idea of what to write; she just hoped the words were within her. A swipe and a click of the mouse brought the mail server up. Her fingers flew across the keyboard before she could think about their implications.

 _Ranma -_

 _It was good to see you in Takarazuka; it has been a very long time. I've looked at your schedule; as the show seems to end next weekend before coming to Tokyo, how does a visit to the dojo two weekends from now sound? You were always - are always - a part of our family, and you and Nodoka are always welcome here._

 _Love, Nabiki._

Nabiki paused for a moment, her hands frozen above the keyboard, her mouse cursor poised over the 'send' button. She took a moment to glance around at her apartment, at the life she'd built for herself. The Western-style furniture, the tasteful decorations and knick-knacks, the row upon row of books lining one wall. They were her refuge, a fortress built to shield herself as much from the past as from the world around her. Irrational as it was, inviting Ranma into her world again felt like throwing all of what she'd built at risk.

The thought lanced through her mind: Ranma was worth it. She hit the 'send' button on the email, closed the mail program, and walked away from the computer before she could change her mind.

* * *

Ranma lay on top of her apartment building, staring up at the stars.

It had been too long since she'd done so, she realized. The stars were her few friends while on the road; most of her days ended staring up at a riot of stars in some remote training area. Tokyo hadn't held much in the way of stars - the lights were too bright - but they had enough, and that time alone on the roof of the dojo was enough.

Joining the Revue had reduced the number of evenings such as this. The opportunities had simply reduced over time; also, for some odd reason the occasional fan would worry that she was attempting suicide. She allowed herself a small smile in remembrance at their reactions when, on one occasion, she had stepped off the ledge - and then gracefully bounded from windowsill to windowsill on her way down. That said, the incident (and the Revue) had warned her off of such antics, so she'd been reduced to finding more mundane ways of thinking about her life.

At that moment, though, she didn't particularly care. She needed time to stare up at the stars, to think, and maybe to cry a little.

The Revue, for her, was a refuge. Always had been. Mom had seen her emotional state after the mess in Nerima was done; she knew enough to know that the stage could help Ranma cope, at least until she found a way to go on. So she'd enrolled at the Revue. She'd quickly stood out; in terms of talent, she had the whole package - her acting, voice, and dance marks were near the top of the class. To her, it was an extension of her Art and her life; to most of her classmates, she was practically a boy already. She worked her way through the Revue ranks, eventually becoming one of Star Troupe's top otokoyaku. When the Revue began to form a new, experimental troupe, she'd been one of the first tabbed for it; she'd reached the pinnacle of her profession.

Heh. She always was the best.

For her, the revue had always been a way to both mask and excise the pain. She could be Edward Jekyll for a night, or Oda Nobunaga, or the spirit Ariel, and no one would blink an eye. Her own pains, her own doubts, could be excised through these characters; a thousand people could watch her burn out her heart, and applaud her for it. It wasn't enough to go on forever, but it was enough for now.

Or, at least, had been enough, up to now.

With Akane… most days were okay. Most days she could go on with her routine, the training-practice-performance cycle that had been her life for the past decade. Keeping busy helped keep her mind off of things; the stage let her emote any pain away. That was most days, anyway.

Ranma really should have expected one of the Tendous to show up at some point; she herself would have bet on Kasumi showing up, rather than Nabiki. The reaction had most definitely been a delayed one; she'd been Jekyll (or Hyde) at that moment, and couldn't be Ranma for awhile. But… when she did come back to herself… everything hit. Nabiki and Akane had looked a great deal alike; though Nabiki's hair was more brown than Akane's black, their facial features were quite similar, enough to make her wonder and dream.

In other words, as she'd looked into Nabiki's eyes, it hadn't been difficult to imagine what Akane would have looked like at that age - and what she and Ranma could have shared together.

Fortunately at the time, Ranma had buried herself in her role. The switch to Hyde had been instinctive; playing the minx - a role so very far from her ordinary self - had allowed her acting to take control of the situation. Nabiki had always been one for playful banter; the station was simply a stage like any other, Nabiki simply another actor within.

But, when she'd had time to think and to remember, to take in that achingly familiar face… everything came crashing down. She would never let it affect her performance on the stage - like any good professional, she considered that sacrosanct - but, for once, the stage had proved wanting. The scars continued to bleed without respite; old agonies came to visit, ghosts speaking of time lost, lives lost. On nights like that, only the sky would truly listen to her, only the heavens understood.

So, in search of a piece of understanding, Ranma talked with the stars, waxing poetic for a life that had long passed her by.

* * *

Authors' note: This will be the first of a four-part work. The parts are written, and have been commented on by prereaders; I will be releasing them about one a week until complete.

nightelf

August 25, 2018

We'll miss you, Chi.


	2. One Woman In Her Time Plays Many Parts

All The World's A Stage

By nightelf

A work of fanfiction based on Takahashi Rumiko's Manga series, Ranma 1/2

Saotome Ranma, Saotome Genma, Saotome Nodoka, Tendou Akane, Tendou Soun, Tendou Kasumi, Tendou Nabiki, Kuonji Ukyou, Kenzan Konatsu, Hibiki Ryouga, P-chan, Unryuu Akari, Shan Pu, Mu Tsu, Kunou Tatewaki, Kunou Kodachi, Ono Toufuu, and Ninomiya Hinako are copyright 1987, 2018 by Takahashi Rumiko. Tenou Haruka and Kaiou Michiru are copyright 1991, 2018 by Takeuchi Naoko. All other characters are copyright 2018 nightelf. All rights reserved.

"Show Me" lyrics copyright 2018 nightelf. All rights reserved.

Publishing rights:

Japan: Shogakukan Inc. Tokyo

Hong Kong: Jademan (Holdings) Ltd.

North America: Viz Inc.

Chapter Two of Four: One Woman In Her Time Plays Many Parts

* * *

Sometimes the current status of her life could be summed up by something very simple: her name.

She'd started off in the world as Saotome Ranma; to those she considered family, this was who she remained. Occasionally she'd been "Ran-chan" to friends, especially when she was a child; Ucchan's name for her had lasted into her high-school days. She'd gone with "Ranko" on occasions when she'd tried to pass herself off as a girl; she'd retired that name when her life became more about trying to pass as a boy.

And, of course, in Takarazuka she was known as Akimoto Ran. Fans sent her orchids in recognition of her "name", not realizing she'd been born under far different calligraphy.

Going to Nerima meant becoming Saotome Ranma again. She still wasn't sure what to think about that. Saotome Ranma, the teenager she'd left behind that cold January morning, had left a decidedly mixed legacy in Nerima – one that included a body count. While she suspected that the dead (well, any other dead besides herself) would stay dead, she still kept an eye out for any challengers, any threat, any possibility that someone might take exception to her continued existence.

Ranma was mildly surprised when no crisis or challenge occurred on their way to the dojo. The walk through the streets proved uneventful; she could hear the traffic and people around her, the symphony of the city, but no declarations of combat or devotion to complicate the way. To the world, they were just another mother and daughter on the streets of Tokyo, two people in a sea of millions. Ranma found the anonymity, just being a random face in the crowd, strangely comforting.

The route to the Tendou place was familiar enough for her to know every turn, but unfamiliar enough to give her a sense of mild disorientation. Some buildings had been torn down and replaced in the past thirteen years; she mentally tried to map out her former roof-hopping routes to see if any of them would need to be changed. That said, the ground she walked was familiar, a place she had once called home; she would never need a map or directions in these particular streets.

Her hands and feet felt strangely numb as she approached the Tendou home. Again, there was a bit of unfamiliarity alongside the familiar; the old dojo building had been replaced by a newer, two-story facility. Her fingers traced the wood grain of the front door frame.

"It's okay, Ranma," her mother assured her. "They know you and love you; they understand."

"That doesn't make it any easier," Ranma replied shakily. She forced her hands to move, to slide the door open and step inside her old home. The clack of heels echoed in the genkan as she stepped across the threshold.

"Hello…?"

"Come in!" a familiar voice called out, and Ranma looked toward the entrance to the living room.

Ranma had come to appreciate the effect of age on people, and Kasumi was no exception. She'd gained a kilogram or two since Ranma had last seen her; a husband and children had allowed her to settle into quiet domesticity. Her outfit hadn't changed much, as she still preferred soft, flowing skirts and blouses; whereas the outfits had seemed conservative and dowdy on the teenaged Kasumi, she now wore them with a dignity and maturity that she'd grown into. Her hairstyle caused Ranma to raise an eyebrow; it was a short pixie cut, one that would have been at home in the Takarazuka dressing rooms.

"Kasumi...?" Ranma said, uncertainty in her voice. She dropped her luggage, knowing what was to come next.

"Ranma!" Kasumi walked into the entryway, and gave her a warm hug. "It's been so long! How have you been?"

"Good," Ranma replied as she returned the hug. For once, she found herself struggling for words. "You look good, Kasumi." She'd learned long ago that distraction could serve her well, and she needed distraction from what she was feeling; her eyes focused on Kasumi's hairstyle. "Nice hairstyle. You haven't been thinking of going into acting, have you?"

Kasumi gave Ranma a soft glare. "After Ranko and Akane started thinking of Mommy's hair as something to grab on to, the 'Mom cut' looked better and better." She fingered her locks self-consciously, her lips formed into a tight smile. "Besides, Mom wore her hair like this when raising us. It seemed appropriate."

Ranma nodded slowly. "It suits you." She bowed her head slightly, and scuffed her feet on the floor. "Um…"

Kasumi blinked. "Yes?"

"I… I just wanted to thank you." She forced her gaze to meet Kasumi's, even while every instinct screamed for her to look away. She'd waited thirteen years to say the words; she didn't want to wait any more. "I… for the last six months here… I was a mess. In every way possible. I… after my curse was locked… I didn't have a clue. None. Didn't know where to go, what to do… you and your sisters helped me through that. Akane helped me accept myself… but you and Nabiki helped teach me about what it meant to be a woman - and, also, what it didn't mean." She wrung her hands together, her face crimson. "Thank you."

Time stopped, and the two women looked at each other, at the years and tragedies that had separated them. Tears began to track down Kasumi's cheeks, even as Ranma's eyes misted over, as her throat hurt from holding back the pain. The dam burst; Kasumi stepped forward and latched onto Ranma, holding her tight.

"R-Ranma…" Kasumi sobbed. "I…. missed you so much… af… after…."

Ranma didn't trust herself enough to speak; all that came out was a soft whine.

"I… I hoped… after Kodachi… that… that you'd survived… that you'd come back… when… when you didn't…"

"C-couldn't… too risky." Ranma forced the words from her mouth. "R-Ranma had to... to disappear."

"I… I know," Kasumi choked out. Dimly, Ranma could sense another presence enter the foyer; whoever they were had the sense to leave them be for the moment.

They eventually separated; Ranma forced herself to take a ragged breath, while Kasumi wiped the tears from her cheeks. Kasumi straightened up, brushed imaginary dirt from her skirt, then looked to the woman standing behind Ranma.

"Auntie!" Kasumi rushed over to hug Nodoka, another emotional reunion for Ranma to savor. A voice interrupted Ranma as she bent down to take off her heels.

"Who are you?"

Ranma blearily looked to the source of the voice. The girl was in that awkward stage where her body had stopped being a child, but hadn't quite decided what it wanted to be yet. The first person Ranma was reminded of was Nabiki; the girl stared skeptically at Ranma as though she was a puzzle to be solved. The short brown hair and hands placed on her hips didn't help matters. She stared out at the world through a red pair of glasses.

Fortunately, Ranma had a hundred different ways to answer such a question; she decided a somewhat theatrical response was needed. She bowed deeply, as an English gentleman might have in a bygone age, using the movements to slip her feet into a pair of house slippers. "My dear lady, I am Akimoto Ran, an esteemed actor and singer with the Takarazuka Revue." Ranma then relaxed into teenaged aplomb. "But, around here, they call me Ranma."

The girl's eyes widened. "Aren't you dead? Mom has a picture of you in the shrine." She turned to Kasumi, currently engaged in a hug. "Wait… Mom, is this the person you named me after?"

Kasumi broke from Nodoka's embrace, and wiped her eyes. "Well… yes, Ranko. Ranma here was the person you were named after."

Ranko's frown deepened. "I thought she died."

Kasumi paused, her mouth open as she pondered how to respond. "Well… Ranma needed to hide for awhile - because someone did try to kill her." She looked to Ranma for confirmation; Ranma nodded. "I suspect we will be sharing a great many stories this weekend." Kasumi's eyes pointed at Ranma.

Ranma took the hint. "Indeed. One thing I've learned in the theater. Everyone has their story, and every family its own saga; the only question is if the story ever gets told. It is perhaps time for this story to be told as far as it is known. Though explaining some things might be difficult…. anyway. How are things?"

"Good." Kasumi's voice had a strange, almost hollow tone to it. "Really good. You've met Ranko here." She chose that moment to ruffle Ranko's hair; Ranko scowled at Kasumi in reply. "Toufuu's working. Father and Akane - er, my daughter, Akane - and Katsuo are practicing in the dojo; Nabiki's with them." She reached out to pick up Nodoka's bags; Ranma chose to carry her own.

Ranma let the strangeness wash over her as she walked through the house. It was the small details that alerted her that things had changed. The old table had seen better decades; the childhoods of three more martial artists had left their mark on the venerated wood. Occasional signs of new technology - a modern cordless phone, a larger television - jarred with her old memories. One other detail she noted: the house had far more photographs lining the walls. Someone, likely Kasumi, had insisted on enshrining and appreciating the people she loved before they died, rather than after.

"Looks nice," Ranma finally said as she looked around. "It's interesting seeing the differences."

Kasumi glanced back at her, casually adjusting the strap of Nodoka's luggage on her shoulder. "Wait until you see the dojo."

"I saw the structure from the outside. Never thought I'd see a second story on the place." She tilted her head to one side. "Wonder what would have happened if I went in the side entrance, like a dojo challenger?"

Kasumi smiled sweetly. "Father has trained my husband in the Art; he's probably the most skilled practitioner at the moment." The smile morphed into something that Ranma would almost describe as sinister. "We did actually have a dojo destroyer visit us about five years ago. Unfortunately, our guest hadn't counted on Toufuu's knowledge of pressure points. It did not go well for him."

Ranma gulped. "That's… kind of scary."

Kasumi looked Ranma over carefully. "I take it you still practice...?"

"You think I could ever stop?" Ranma stopped for a moment, her eyes misting over, as a koi leaped from the backyard pond. "The dojos near Takarazuka know me fairly well; they like me because I give them a different sort of challenge, and I go from one place to another because I need the challenge. We're close enough to the countryside that I can always find places to go out and train."

"And apparently perfect the Grandmaster's clothes-changing technique," Kasumi supplied.

"Well, it came in handy," Ranma retorted. "Have you ever seen what it's like backstage while changing outfits? It's just a lot easier to keep the outfits in Mu Tsu's compression space and use the old lech's technique to change."

Nodoka moved ahead of them, hurried steps to open the door to the dojo building; the others followed her inside. Ranma glanced around at the bland waiting room - the comfortable chairs, the austere artwork decorating the walls, various forms of reading material neatly placed on a bookshelf. She spotted a martial arts classic on the shelf - Kano Jigoro's _Mind over Muscle_ \- then looked back at Kasumi.

"So who's left of the old crowd, anyway?"

Kasumi blinked at the question. "The old crowd? Well… the Kunous are gone…"

"Thank God," Ranma interjected.

"Well… yes," Kasumi gathered herself. "Mu Tsu still runs the Nekohanten. The rest of the Chinese group… oh, what was her name…?"

"Shan Pu." Ranma's mouth twitched as she remembered Shan Pu in all of her glory.

"Ah, yes. Shan Pu. Such a healthy, energetic young woman…" Kasumi fought to keep a straight face.

"That's one way of putting it," Ranma replied. She adjusted the grip on her suitcase. "About the only girl I ever met with even less feminine modesty than I had."

"You learned it quickly enough, once you had a need for it."

"Yeah, well... at the time, I didn't want to have a need for it." Ranma blushed furiously. "It wasn't my body. It was just the body of some dead girl who drowned, whose body I got cursed with." She twitched, remembering Herb's second visit to Nerima - and what she felt in its aftermath. "Until it was the only body I had left," she whispered.

"Well, you adapted remarkably well, considering." Kasumi gave her a reassuring smile. "Anyway. Shan Pu and her great-grandmother left for China after… well…"

"After I disappeared." Ranma leveled her eyes at Kasumi. "Might as well say it."

"Quite," Kasumi agreed. "Once you and Kodachi were… dead… oh dear that sounds so odd to say now that you're back… there was no reason for them to stay. Mu Tsu didn't want to go back to China, so they left the restaurant in his hands. He married a Chinese student from Hong Kong in Tokyo to study business; he continues to run the cafe and take care of their children, while she works as an executive for a shipping company."

Ranma nodded. "Good to see he got over his obsession with Shan Pu."

"Well… everything that happened… it shook a lot of sense into people," Kasumi responded, a note of sadness in her voice. "Ucchan's is still around; Ukyou and Konatsu have two children, with another on the way."

"Do you just happen to be friends with everyone who runs a restaurant?" Ranko groused at Ranma. She crossed her arms in front of her, shaking her head as she did so. "Definitely from Osaka."

Ranma shrugged her shoulders helplessly, the luggage twitching upward with the movement. "Well… the path of a martial artist is fraught with hunger?"

Kasumi tittered in laughter. "That sounds like something Uncle Genma would have said."

"Well… yeah. If he didn't ever say it, I'm sure he thought it." Ranma blinked as an odd thought crossed her mind. "Hmmm… is Ukyou still presenting as a guy?"

"Ukyou started presenting more as a girl once you left; since you were gone, she was no longer honor bound to present as male." The corners of Kasumi's mouth twitched upward. "Konatsu is still quite pretty, though. Most outsiders to the area think of them as a lesbian couple; no one seems to care enough to correct them."

Ranma smirked. "Darn. Ukyou - heck, both of them - were convincing enough to perform on the Takarazuka stage."

"Even Konatsu?" Kasumi asked skeptically.

"Out of those two, if you saw them on stage, which one would you have thought was a guy?"

"Point." Kasumi set down the luggage she was carrying. "Just a moment." She knocked on the door. "Dear? Are you with a patient?"

A soft tenor voice echoed from the other side. "No; Mrs. Yamada has left already. Come in."

Kasumi opened the door for the others; Ranma's eyes lit up as she entered the clinic. "Toufuu!"

"Ranma! It's good to see you!" Toufuu rose from his chair. He was still fit and trim - martial arts saw to that. The lines around his eyes and mouth were etched clearer than before; his ponytail was long gone, replaced with a far more utilitarian cut. He raised an eyebrow at Ranma, his palms exposed for her to see. "So… I apparently have 'good hands'?"

"What…. Oh!" Ranma exclaimed in realization. She set down her luggage, blurred for a moment, then reappeared wearing a long slit-skirt. "Oh, yes, Toufuu… Please… please touch me… I haven't stopped thinking about those incredible hands of yours. Please make an appointment for me. It's just… criminal… that Kasumi has you all to herself… I have some… very… sensitive… pressure points just _begging_ for your touch." She emphasized her breasts with these last words; she practically shoved her chest into Toufuu's arm. Once she was satisfied she'd made her point, she blurred once more; a moment later, she stood back in her original blouse and slacks, a hand placed on her hip.

"So. How'd I do?" Ranma asked. Behind her, Toufuu wiped the steam from his glasses.

Ranko rolled her eyes. "This is a weird adult thing, isn't it?"

Kasumi chuckled, shaking her head in exasperation. "Ranko-chan, that may be the best description of my late teenage years I've ever heard. Strange things tended to happen around Ranma during her time here. Things that I can't even begin to describe." She tilted her head to one side. "It's going to be an interesting weekend, that's for sure."

Ranma blinked in surprise. "Is someone coming over?"

Kasumi gave Ranma a flat stare. "You've been gone for over a decade, Ranma, with most people thinking you'd died. Yes - we're having company over. I wasn't sure who to invite, so I kept it to the few people we know we can trust. The Mus, the Kenzans, the Hibikis…"

"The Hibikis? Is Ryouga still with that pig girl?" Ranma looked up to the ceiling, trying to remember her name. "Um... Akemi?"

"Akari," Kasumi supplied. "Ryouga rarely leaves the farm; he's always afraid he'll get lost. Still, he and Akari and the kids come in from time to time. They always bring something from the farm whenever they come to visit; it's always nice to get things straight from the source." She looked to the stairs for a moment. "Are you all right with sleeping in the dojo? With Nabiki here as well this weekend, it's going to be crowded."

Ranma nodded knowingly. "Pop and I used to sleep in dojos all the time. It'll be just like childhood."

Kasumi's smile widened at the words. "Thanks, Ranma. I'm still not sure where we're going to put everyone, to be honest." She gestured to a corner. "It might be best to leave your bags down here; the bathroom and shower are down here as well."

Ranma took a moment to glance around at the clinic area. The floor tiles had been painted in kana, as though the floor was a giant crossword puzzle; unconsciously, her mind started following paths and filling in words. She instantly understood why Toufuu and Kasumi had decorated the floor in this manner: it was all too easy to find words and names within the tiles, a convenient distraction whenever a patient needed it. A set of luggage already sat in the corner, along with a high-quality blouse and skirt-suit hung on the wall above it, and Ranma smiled. It was one more symbol of how they'd all changed.

Nabiki had chosen her costume. Kasumi had already chosen hers - or, perhaps, had it chosen for her - long before Ranma had met her. But Nabiki had earned hers, and it suited her. Ranma wasn't sure about her own costume, but that was fairly standard for her life; an actor had to change costumes as needed. Maybe the standard black leotard she wore in practice qualified, considering how often she wore it. She suddenly found herself missing her old Chinese shirts, and wondered if Kasumi had kept any of her things.

Sighing, Ranma set their bags alongside Nabiki's in the corner, then moved Nodoka's luggage to join them. Her ears perked up at the muffled sound of footfall above her.

Kasumi and Toufuu began to ascend a staircase. Ranma had been in enough dojos to understand the importance of being discreet; she tiptoed up the steps behind them, entered the doorway, and took a place along the wall, glancing at the other spectators before watching the festivities.

Ranma grinned at the sight that awaited. Two children, one girl clearly the same age as Ranko, the other a boy a couple of years younger, faced off in the middle of the dojo, fighting in that oddly cute way children tended to do things simply, but with all of their concentration. To their credit, they didn't stop for the newcomers, as apparently they'd learned the importance of continuing a fight to its conclusion.

And what followed felt like a reintroduction to an old friend. The beginning forms of the Musebetsu Kaketou - a mixture of kenpo, jujitsu, and tai chi chuan - were familiar to any practitioner, so much so that Ranma could predict the sequence of moves well in advance. Kick followed by block followed by counter followed by attempt to grab followed by an evasive roll into a leg sweep… the progression of moves was a familiar tune to her, one she knew by heart. She could even tell, judging by the actions of the pair, how the fight would ultimately end.

A few seconds later, the girl, the older of the two sparring, extended just a little too far on a punch. The boy sparring against her grabbed the girl's wrist and tossed her on her back; as he did this, Ranma pictured herself flipping over the girl and tapping her on the back of the head.

Some things never changed.

"Point!" Soun called, ending the fight. He stepped into the area and extended a hand to the girl to help her up. After he'd pulled the girl to her feet, Soun looked over at Ranma.

"What did you see?"

Ranma crossed her arms. "The girl got impatient. The boy was showing no reaction to her attacks, and more to the point was preferring a more defensive style. So she pushed it and extended too far with her punch - which, of course, was what he was waiting for." Ranma raised an eyebrow. "Temper problems?"

Soun nodded; it was clearly a familiar refrain. "Indeed. Akane, Katsuo… I would like to introduce you to… actually, I have a better idea for an introduction." He looked over at Ranma. "It has been a very long time. Are you interested in a spar with me? I would like to know that my school is not the only one left, after all."

The offer brought a grin to Ranma's face. "Given the Musebetsu Kaketou Ryuu, it is the best way to introduce yourself, isn't it? Just give me a second to change." She took a step forward, then changed into her slit-skirt.

The boy's eyes widened. "Wow… how did you do that?"

It was an answer she'd given a thousand times before. "Martial arts."

Soun crossed his arms in front of him, and leveled a hard gaze at Ranma. "You think you can try to distract me?"

Ranma shook her head. "Of course not. It's just that this has more freedom of movement than my slacks." She looked over at the children. "I cosplayed as Chun-Li once. It was a great outfit for fighting in, so I decided to go with it."

Soun's eyes narrowed. "Now I know you're trying to distract me." He walked to the center of the dojo. "Kasumi, if you would do the honors?"

"Of course." Kasumi's eyes twinkled. "Ranko, Akane, Katsuo? You're going to want to watch this." The children walked over to the wall of the dojo, and sat down. "Are you both ready?"

"I'm ready," Soun replied. The frown was gone, replaced with a cocky smirk. "You haven't gone soft with that acting job, have you?"

"You think I could ever stop, old man?" Ranma adjusted her stance into a relaxed, languid pose, one reminiscent of a femme fatale. "I was born ready."

"I don't know about 'born' ready, if that's what you call ready…" Soun looked at the group. "Children, this is what's called 'psychological warfare'. If you can anger your opponent into making a mistake… well, your opponent making a mistake is generally a good thing."

"Just don't take it too far - especially with family," Ranma supplied, her voice subdued. "There are some words that you can't take back." Soun simply nodded in reply.

Kasumi looked at the pair; whatever banter had occurred had faded. "Ready?" She chopped the air with her hand, then backed away to safety. "Begin!"

Soun's moves had changed from his earlier days, Ranma noticed. In fact, it seemed that the entirety of Musebetsu Kaketou had adapted with the times. In Ranma's adolescence, Soun (and Genma) had stuck primarily with Japanese and Chinese schools of martial art, as it was all that was available to them. The last decade had triggered unprecedented connections between martial artists around the world, and those connections made themselves known in the styles they presented. Her eyes widened when Soun began a capoeira dance, before she had to duck a spin-kick. She responded with a switch to Hapkido, and sought a chance to grab him.

Clearly, the Musebetsu Kaketou had become a transnational martial art.

The spar evolved about as Ranma expected. In general, a martial artist will choose a style that matches their body type. Soun had always focused more on power than speed in his attacks; eventually, he'd settled on a mix of ground-based, defensive styles, with only the occasional venture into speed-based styles to keep Ranma from detecting a pattern. By comparison, speed was what Ranma had lived by, so she focused on her usual aerial-based styles, with the occasional influence from dance performance to provide misdirection. One style bled into another that blended into another as she fought, all forming what could best be described as a speed-based martial art that was uniquely Ranma.

Which, of course, was the point of the Musebetsu Kaketou. Take from every style available, and then form it into your own unique style.

As the spar continued, she couldn't help but admire Soun's fighting style. His was a patient, defensive style, designed to weather a storm of attacks and slowly wear down a speedy opponent on the assumption that the speedster couldn't keep the pace up forever. He'd learned some strong endurance techniques as well; even her Amaguriken had barely fazed him. In fact…

"Breaking Point technique?" she finally asked.

Soun nodded without smiling or breaking concentration. "Ryouga taught me several years ago."

Ranma frowned. That clinched it; if she wanted to win the fight, she'd have to get sneaky. She pulled a bra out of her personal storage and threw it at Soun's face. It wouldn't be quite as effective with Soun as it was with Happousai, but it should be enough.

Soun caught the object in his hand reflexively, then stared at it for a fraction of a second. That fraction of a second, as the primitive areas of his brain told him that this was something interesting, was all she needed. One leg sweep, and Soun was down on the floor, Ranma's bra still clutched in his hand.

Ranma shook her head. "Men," she muttered.

The children at the wall gaped at the sight. "Whoa…" one of the girls piped up. "She got Grandpa."

Kasumi shook her head in exasperation, then raised her arm. "Point, Ranma." She gave Ranma a soft glare. "Really, Ranma? Throwing your underwear at him?"

Ranma shrugged. "Men are men. They're always going to find women's underwear interesting at an instinctive level because, well… we make it interesting." She smiled unashamedly. "Just because Soun isn't the old lech doesn't mean he isn't going to have an automatic reaction to it - and be distracted just enough to leave an opening." She extended a hand to Soun. "You've gotten better since we last fought. That I had to throw my bra at you just to get an opening…"

Soun accepted the hand, letting Ranma help him to his feet. He then discreetly handed Ranma her bra back. "Yes, well… I had reason to get better." A cloud passed over his face. "We all did." He then stepped to the side and gestured toward Ranma. "Kids, this is… well… this is Saotome Ranma. Head, and only surviving member, of the Saotome branch of the Musebetsu Kaketou." He then gestured to his grandchildren. "Ranma, these are Ranko… Akane… and Katsuo. My grandchildren."

Ranma took that moment to examine Kasumi's other children. Ranko continued to stare at her appraisingly from behind her glasses. Akane, by comparison, was far more open and expressive in her mannerisms; she bounced around hyperactively, her dark eyes staring back at Ranma, her long brown hair tied back in a ponytail. Katsuo just stood there calmly as he put on his glasses, a guileless smile adorning his features; his brown hair was cut brutally short. Now that Ranma could see the family, he could get a better feel for inheritance; Ranko and Akane had inherited enough features from Toufuu to differentiate themselves from their mother, while Katsuo's facial features were very much like his mother - and, by extension, his maternal grandfather. The other adults - Nodoka, Nabiki, and Toufuu - stood behind the children, all with varying degrees of bemusement at Ranma's technique.

Ranma nodded slowly. An audience of children couldn't dissuade her after all these years. "Hello. I'm Saotome Ranma." She raised an eyebrow mischievously; the corners of her mouth twitched. "Sorry about this."

The words brought a wide smile to the adults in the room; the other children merely looked on in confusion. She decided to continue. "About thirty-five years ago, two young men were trained in the Musebetsu Kaketou by a mysterious master known only as Hap -"

"Don't say his name again!" Soun exhorted. After a moment, he took a deep breath and calmed down. "My apologies, children. My master was a singularly unpleasant individual. His perversions knew no bounds." He shuddered. "Even though I saw his body, even though I received his ashes, he always seemed to find a way beyond seemingly impossible situations." He took a moment to relax. "Ranma, please do not tempt fate."

Ranma shrugged. "Okay. Anyway… this master taught two students. One was Tendou Soun - your grandfather. The other was my father, Saotome Genma. These two each formed their own branches of the Musebetsu Kaketou. Initially, it was planned that a relationship between myself and Soun's daughter, Tendou Akane, would lead to a sealing and combining of the schools." She grimaced. "Akane was killed before that could happen."

"So you're planning on getting with Aunt Nabiki instead?" Ranko asked.

"Ranko!" Kasumi hissed, scandalized.

Nabiki waved Kasumi off. "It's okay, Kasumi. They need to know, anyway." She pulled the three in close in front of her, a wicked grin on her features. "This is Ranko… Akane… and Katsuo." She gestured to each of them in turn. "Pick any one you want. They'll be your fiance!"

"What?!" all three children shouted at once.

Ranma caught the look in Nabiki's eye and decided to play along. "Hmmm… I'm not sure… which do you think would make for good marriage material?"

"Hey!" Akane shouted. "What's going on here?"

"Oh, my…" Kasumi put a hand over her mouth in shock. "We really should have warned them, first… I mean, Nabiki and I at least got an afternoon's warning, last time…"

Ranko's eyes widened to comic proportions. "Mom?!"

Ranma walked in front of the trio, scratching her chin in thought. "Hmmm. This first one clearly has some intelligence… but I don't know about that temper." She rubbed her head in remembrance. "The second one… clearly a quality martial artist… perhaps… but can she cook?"

"She cooks well," Kasumi replied proudly. All of the children stared at the adults with horrified faces.

"There's also the boy… but he's too young!" She struck up a heroic pose; outside, a flash of thunder was heard. "I know!" She looked at the twins. "I shall date you both!"

Toufuu sealed the issue by approaching Ranko and Akane from behind. "Then it's settled. Both of my daughters shall be your fiancees!" He gave Ranma a lopsided grin. "You should be used to having multiple fiancees…"

At the abject horror on the twins' faces, the adults finally cracked up laughing. "Oh, man," Nabiki said to them, wiping tears from her eyes. "I can't believe you fell for that!"

Akane crossed her arms. "That was mean! Making us think we were going to be married to this old woman…!"

Ranma's jaw dropped in mock outrage. "Old woman…! Well, I never!" She huffed theatrically. The grin escaping from her face betrayed her true feelings in the matter.

Kasumi finally calmed down her giggles. "Perhaps we should go inside. I have some snacks for everyone while we talk."

* * *

Everything had a cost, Ranma reflected quietly as she sat at table. Sometimes she'd paid the cost willingly; sometimes the cost was forced from her.

She watched with quiet sadness at one of those costs in front of her.

Soun stared out at the backyard with his grandchildren as they enjoyed the peace of the afternoon. The similarities within the family were eerie; they all had a fan in their hands, looked out at the world, and quietly commented on the day. Soun was using the moment to spread what wisdom he could, talking about everything from martial arts to school to ethics; the children would give their own thoughts, and Soun would patiently listen before responding.

The scene, especially with the children trying to ape their grandfather, was beautiful, touching, but sad for her as well. It pained her - because she realized just how much wasn't there, and would never be.

Her father was gone. Worse, she'd never given her father a moment such as that - a quiet, contemplative time with grandchildren. Akane's death had delayed any grandchildren… and, eventually, circumstances had denied that entirely.

Was it selfish of her not to start a relationship? Her mother had hinted, in that oh-so-motherly way, that perhaps she should start to look for a partner, in secret if she wanted to stay in the Revue, but that she needed that grounding regardless. As she looked on at Soun with his grandchildren, she wondered if Nodoka had been hinting at it for another reason - to have a chance to see her grandbabies.

Which brought up another question - the simple mechanics of the deed. That in itself was a disturbing question, one she wasn't prepared to answer. Becoming a parent now almost certainly meant bearing a child rather than siring one. Which meant changes to herself - to her body - that she wasn't quite comfortable with yet.

A tired voice interrupted her musings. "Nothing quite like the choices we don't make, eh, Saotome?"

Ranma glanced over at Nabiki. "Was it that obvious? I'm normally a better actor than that."

Nabiki sat down next to Ranma; the smile on her face didn't meet her eyes. "Ranma, you've never been able to fool anyone here, and there's no point in trying." She shrugged. "Well, anyone over the age of eleven, anyway."

"Meh. Everyone's a critic." Ranma mock-groused, then found herself grousing for real. "But yeah. The choices we didn't make." She looked over at Nabiki. "What's your social life been like since I left?"

Nabiki snorted. "Social life? You're kidding, right?" She leaned back, laying down on the tatami mat. "Everyone talks about their freshman year of college like you're supposed to party and drink and act crazy. I made straight A's my first semester because I was still largely on a war footing from Nerima. I always expected _something_ to happen. I didn't really learn to relax until a couple of years after I'd graduated. By then… well… I didn't really know much about where to begin with dating. Or, for that matter, what I wanted."

She raised a hand to her forehead. "I dated here and there. This guy here, occasionally this girl there. It didn't really work. Even the martial artists I dated were, well…. boring." She raised herself back into a sitting position. "And then they'd hear I was from Furinkan and, well…"

Ranma's face twisted. "That bad, huh?"

"Yes - that bad. I eventually realized what it was." She gulped. "I survived."

Ranma's heart twisted in her chest at the words.

"I once dated an American - a soldier - for a few weeks, just to see what it was like; basically, we'd met at this one bar, and we were drawn to each other. We got to talking, and, well… he'd seen hell. He'd done service in some pretty nasty places - Iraq was the only place he was allowed to mention - and seen things no human being should have to go through. And, well, he asked me why I had eyes just like his." She blushed; she lowered her voice to keep her nieces and nephews from hearing. "I… I lost my virginity to him. He was one of the few people I ever met who came close to understanding." She gave a wistful smile in remembrance.

Ranma nodded slowly. She knew why Nabiki had said what she had. Unfortunately for Ranma, that meant her own secrets had to be laid bare. She lowered her own voice to match Nabiki's, and moved closer to facilitate the conversation. "In my case… so much of it was things I didn't understand. I'd grown up as a boy; to suddenly find myself female - stuck in the body of a woman - left so much confusion. And after Akane…" She paused. "It was simply best to bury myself in the stage. It's easy to not think about things like love and sex and romance when you devote yourself to an Art." It was her turn to blush.

"I'd been with the Revue for a few years before I lost my virginity - with a man, that is."

Nabiki eyes widened slightly. Ranma's face burned crimson.

"He was a martial artist at one of the dojos I frequented. He reminded me of, well, me - devoted to the art, to the exclusion of things like social niceties. I had come to realize that just because the mind wanted one thing didn't mean that the body didn't want another - and, well, sometimes my body says some pretty confusing things." Her eyes cast downward to the wood grain of the table. "He was kind, surprisingly tender - he didn't want to hurt me - and…" her voice shrank to a whisper, "and… and I enjoyed it. A lot."

Nabiki put a hand on Ranma's shoulder. "Well, sex is like that. It's supposed to be enjoyable."

Tears began to well in Ranma's eyes. "But… but I enjoy sex with women, too!" she hissed. "How can I commit to a relationship with anyone when I'm like that?"

Nabiki's face could have been carved from stone. After a moment, she relaxed, her voice even and patient. Ranma recognized the tone she was using: whenever any of the Tendou girls had wanted to teach Ranma anything after her curse was locked, that 'instructor voice' came out in force. "Ranma, when you were with Akane, with anything you weren't sure about, how did you handle it?"

Ranma shrugged. "Well, we talked it out. Akane knew it was kind of uncharted territory for me, so she listened patiently to what I had to say. Eventually, we'd figure out where to go from there." She swallowed hard, her throat hurting from the stress. "I… I didn't tell Akane about my dreams, though. That sometimes, well… if a boy looked at me the right way… that I'd feel all warm and gooey inside… and…"

"Ranma?" Nabiki's voice cut through Ranma's conundrum. "She knew."

Ranma looked at her, horrified. Nabiki took Ranma in her arms, so that their faces were inches apart. "Ranma, you might be an actor now, but you were certainly no actor back then. She knew; we all knew, to be honest. We could see the way your body reacted to Ryouga or to Tatewaki. Akane… She was willing to wait until you were ready to talk about it."

"But what if… what if I decided that I preferred being with a guy? That I was fine with being a normal wife and mother? What would she have done?" She deliberately turned her eyes away. "I… I couldn't have rejected her like that. I couldn't do that to her."

Nabiki put a hand to Ranma's cheek, turning Ranma's face back to her. "Ranma, we all knew you were changing. That the person you'd be after being locked would be different from the person you were before. Akane knew that was a possibility, that you might 'go native', so to speak." She sighed. "It would have hurt for awhile, but, well... she knew, and she accepted that."

The words hit Ranma like a ton of bricks. All the guilt she'd carried, all the shame she'd held over what she'd seen as betrayal, came crashing down on top of her. Unable to cope, she wrapped her arms around Nabiki, sobbing uncontrollably, purging years' worth of pain in the span of a few minutes.

As her sobs finally quieted down, Ranma felt Nabiki ease her to her feet.

"Daddy, I'm taking Ranma out for a bit. We need… a bit of girl time." Ranma's bloodshot eyes widened. 'Girl time' held a particular meaning among herself and the Tendou girls. Nabiki's next comment confirmed Ranma's suspicions. "I'll bring home dessert for everyone, okay?"

Ranma blearily looked toward the back porch, where Soun rested with his grandchildren. Needless to say, none of the four sitting there disagreed.

* * *

Ranma stared morosely into her bowl of ice cream, even as she savored the flavors.

Akane had introduced her to this particular ice cream shop, back when Ranma had cause to worry about things like buckets and rain showers. In their early days, it had been a place to hang out; in many ways, their trips here were the closest thing they'd had to dates in their relationship. The importance of the place shifted once her curse was locked; what once had been a place to relax became a lifeline. Sometimes it was all of the girls, sometimes it was just her and Akane, but many of the worst moments of her teenage years were worked out over ice cream.

And then there was the one time that she came here alone. The one moment that couldn't be 'worked out'.

"Thanks for bringing me here," she finally whispered.

"No problem." Nabiki theatrically scooped a bit of ice cream from her dish and raised it to her lips. "Nowadays, we'd find a bar and split some form of alcohol, and drown our sorrows away. That said, I hope you don't mind me going to old-fashioned methods. You could probably get any alcohol you wanted in Takarazuka, but an ice cream parlor like this might be more difficult."

Ranma sighed, nodding. "It has been awhile. After all, there they expect me to act like an adult." She stuck her tongue out, a silly attempt at childishness, then sank back into her depression. "Of course, they aren't wrong in that."

Nabiki waved a hand in disagreement. "Meh. The secret to adulthood is knowing when you can be childish. Here, where you went to high school? You can be childish."

"Um… excuse me…" A voice cut through their conversation.

Ranma blinked from her stupor, and turned to find a high-school girl standing near their table. Ranma opened her mouth, then stopped. For a moment, she wondered which of her identities the girl was going to ask for. "Yes?"

"Are you Akimoto Ran?"

Performance instincts immediately kicked in upon hearing the name; Ranma gave the girl a gentle smile. "Yes I am. May I help you?"

"Um… canIhaveyourautograph?" the girl asked quickly.

Ranma raised an eyebrow at the request. With a flourish, she pulled a pen and a photo of herself from a hidden cache, as though by magic. "May I ask who to address this to?"

"Megumi!" the girl blurted.

Ranma looked around and saw the table Megumi was likely eating at, where several of her friends waited, staring at the three of them as though Megumi had gone insane. She nodded knowingly and wrote on the photo: "To Megumi: Enjoy the ice cream! Akimoto Ran." She handed the photo back to Megumi; Megumi squealed, bowed deeply in thanks, and headed back to her table.

Nabiki raised an eyebrow. "Can't even escape the fans here?"

Ranma shrugged. "It's the way it is. The fans in Takarazuka tend to follow certain rules; there's a hierarchy to the fandom there. Here… it's almost refreshing to have someone come up and ask."

She looked down at her dish, at the half-melted mix of green tea ice cream and chocolate sauce, and frowned. After what she'd learned - after knowing what Akane knew - she needed to know the outcome. And, in this case, the direct route was the best.

"Nabiki… if Akane hadn't… what do you think would have happened between us? Between Akane and me?"

Nabiki sighed, and looked out the window. "Ranma… I don't know for certain. I have no clue as to what you would have become. No offense, but when you died… you died, for real. Saotome Ranma was gone. It forced you down a different path, a different life. So I can't really compare you - the person in front of me now - with who you were back then." She fixed a soft gaze on Ranma. "How many times have you had a relationship stall because of your feelings toward Akane?"

"A couple of times." Ranma looked away, ostensibly to admire her manicure. "I… never really got over her, to be honest."

"As I thought." Nabiki's face twisted in thought. "Here's what I think would have happened. I think that you and Akane would have developed an open relationship - still lovers, still loving each other, but with the occasional man to satisfy certain needs. Likely, the two of you would have found a third person - a man - to get together with and, well, what man doesn't dream of a three-way with two hot women?"

Ranma blushed, but nodded. "That sounds… interesting. Um… really interesting." Her jaw dropped as she realized a prime candidate. "Oh, dear. I just realized who the most likely candidate would have been."

Nabiki blinked for a moment, before her eyes widened. "Oh, no… you're not thinking of Tatewaki, are you?"

Ranma grinned lecherously. "Either him or Mu Tsu… Ryouga was already with Akari by that point, so he was out…"

Nabiki clearly decided to play along. "Well, if you're going that route, how about a four-way, with you, Akane, Ukyou, and Konatsu? Konatsu's remarkably skilled in bed, if Ukyou is to be believed…"

Ranma just stared back at Nabiki. "That's… that's a really scary thought. Not a bad thought, just a really scary one."

Nabiki raised a shapely eyebrow. "You know, it's not a bad idea. Not a bad life, either, now that I think on it. Let's face it; neither of us are exactly normal in the sexuality department." Her eyes twinkled with mirth.

"Yeah, that's all we need," Ranma snorted, already contemplating the result of such a setup. "A bunch of half-brothers and sisters, all about the same age, all competing to be the best martial artist in Nerima." An odd, wistful smile graced her features. "Furinkan wouldn't have survived." The thought of what her child would have been like didn't enter her mind - at least, not that she'd ever admit. She looked for a way to change the subject. "So what's your life like now?"

"Pretty boring, really." Nabiki ate a spoonful of her ice cream, then elaborated. "Get up in the morning, go to work, go home, sometimes run or work out, get some supper, maybe go out with friends, go to bed. Weekends I'll usually visit here and practice with the family, or maybe go traveling."

"What's your work like?" Ranma blurted.

"Well… the work is pretty good," Nabiki admitted, twirling the spoon in her hands. "Not sure if you're familiar with what the Sakaki firm does, but, well… we help people - women, usually - manage their family's investments and portfolios. Women are usually the ones in charge of maintaining the family's finances - but all too often have to go to men to help them plan, men who might not understand their client's needs. So, our company provides a woman's perspective; we talk with our clients to get an idea as to their goals and concerns, and provide a set of investment opportunities to help meet those goals." Her eyes focused back on Ranma. "How about you? What's your day like?"

Ranma sighed. "A lot of it depends on whether I'm in a show or rehearsing. If I'm rehearsing, it's actually a lot of boredom; we perform our numbers when we're called to, follow the lead of the director and make refinements as necessary, and when we're not on stage we mainly sit around. I get some of my martial arts practice during that time, while waiting. After rehearsal's done, I'll usually go home, have supper, then work out some more." She looked out into the street, her mind running through the motions of her life. "When a show is running, I usually get up a couple hours later; I'll go in, get a little of rehearsal in - any places the director wasn't happy with in the last run - and then go into makeup for the show. The show… there's nothing quite like the stage - and nothing quite like acting." She turned back to Nabiki. "Do you know what it's like? To act on the stage, I mean."

Nabiki shook her head. "To be honest, it didn't seem all that much like acting." She scooped another mouthful of ice cream. "A lot of Jekyll - and Hyde - seemed to be you."

"There is something to that," Ranma agreed. "Basically, in character… imagine taking a part of you, and giving it its own identity. So, I take all of the parts of me where I tried to be dashing and gentlemanly, and give it this name - Dr. Edward Jekyll. All the other parts of me are to the side; they're still there, just not important. So, when I'm on stage, I am Jekyll." She blushed. "Hyde, too. Hyde is all of the times I let go - when I abandon control - when I let that part of myself out to play. She doesn't come out often, but make no mistake, Nabiki, she's there. It's like a switch; one minute I'm this wussy guy, and the next I'm this wanton… well, I won't use the words often applied to Hyde, as they're not exactly proper." She grinned wryly. "The character at the end… well, in a lot of ways, that's close to me. It's all the parts of me - minus the martial arts, maybe - brought together. That person has a choice, that person can be in control or throw herself at someone with complete abandon, or anywhere in between." She shrugged. "So… basically I make other people out of parts of myself, and call them different names."

"Like Juliet?" Nabiki replied, her mouth twisted into a smirk.

"Yeah, well… that wasn't acting. That was kids playing around." She licked her lips nervously, glanced outside for a moment, then looked back at Nabiki. "Tell you what. I'll tell you about the best acting job I ever gave in my life later, okay?"

Nabiki raised an eyebrow. "I'll hold you to that, Saotome."

Ranma smiled; the way Nabiki had said her name triggered something within her - something old, something forgotten. For a moment, she felt like she was sixteen again, supremely cocky, arrogant to the point that she would take on the gods themselves if the cause was right. "Wouldn't have it any other way, Tendou." She gestured to the counter. "Besides, we probably need to be getting back - and the others are going to expect some dessert."

* * *

"... I tell you, Akane, the dressing room for the theater... you'd swear they'd learned their etiquette fighting for bread at lunch at Furinkan. Chaos - absolute chaos. I'd tried just about everything to find a place to get changed quickly. I even hung from the ceiling once, just to find room. Finally, one night, I got fed up. I kept my finale outfit hidden away, then just pulled Ha... the old master's clothing trick. One second I was in a tux and tails... the next I was in a can-can outfit, complete with a feather plume on my back! Needless to say, it got attention. Well, after that -"

"Um..."

Ranma stopped. Her gaze lingered at the shrine, more specifically at her fiancee's picture. "Yes..." She turned to look closely at the child addressing her, then at the dojo around them. "... Akane?"

The girl nodded. "Saotome-san, I'm sorry to interrupt... but I guess I was wondering something."

Ranma moved her body around to face the girl. "Okay... what are you wondering about?"

Akane pursed her lips into a frown. "Um... uh... how did you come up with your form of Musebetsu Kaketou?" she blurted, then blushed. "I mean, Grandfather has his... but I can't really fight like he does." Her hands fidgeted with her ponytail.

Ranma crossed her arms over her chest, an unconscious attempt to mimic both her father and Akane's grandfather. "Well... I think the best thing to do is to live and learn - to expose yourself to as many different styles as you can, practice as much as you can, and learn what works with you and doesn't work with you." She smiled wistfully; her eyes turned to the window outside, to the fading light of evening. "When I was growing up, Pop would take me to all of these different dojos and shrines. Mainly he wanted to just freeload, but he also brought me there to watch and learn - to see different martial arts techniques, and how to incorporate them into my own." She gestured back to Akane. "You've learned the basics of Musebetsu Kaketou, from what I've seen... I'm guessing you've tried your grandfather's moves, and they didn't suit you so much?"

Akane wrung her hands together. "There's just... well... they don't seem to work for me."

"Ah." Ranma nodded sagely. "That's kind of the point of Musebetsu Kaketou - to effectively take all of these other parts of other martial arts and make it into your own." She glanced quickly at the center of the dojo. "Can I see a kata?"

Akane immediately snapped to attention. "Hai!" The girl assumed a starting position; Ranma had her suspicions, but needed to see her perform before making any recommendations.

As Akane worked through a basic Musebetsu Kaketou kata, Ranma nodded. It was as she suspected. She let Akane finish her kata, then moved in front of her.

"Now. I'm going to do the same kata. I'm going to slow it down a bit, so you see what's going on." Ranma worked through the kata like an old friend, taking her time with each move, enjoying the feel of muscles moving to perfection. Ranma could practically feel the careful frown on Akane's features as she worked toward its conclusion. As though to accentuate her point, she rolled out of the end of the kata to face Akane.

"So. What did you see?"

Akane shook her head. "That's not how Grandfather does that kata..."

"And that's the point, kid." Ranma relaxed from her position. "Musebetsu Kaketou is about making the martial art your own. That means making it fit your body, its shape, its strengths and weaknesses. Over time, you'll find ways to address those weaknesses, to adapt the martial art to who you are and what you want to be." Her grin widened. "That's when you really start looking at other martial arts, to see what best fits in your repertoire."

"I guess..." The frown seemed painted onto Akane's features. "Um... this is going to sound odd... but is what Mom and Dad said about you true?"

Ranma raised an eyebrow. "That depends. What did they say?"

"They said you had a... curse. Like Uncle Ryouga or Mu Tsu, but..."

"But that I changed between a girl and a boy, right?" Ranma asked, a twinkle in her eye. Akane nodded sheepishly.

Ranma let out a deep breath. "Well… yeah. The reason why Akane and I - your aunt Akane and I - were engaged was because, well, at the time, I was a guy - just a guy with a curse to become a girl when hit with cold water."

Akane's brow furrowed in thought. "Did you have to adapt your martial art to fit?"

"Oh, yeah! Nearly lost a fight with Mu Tsu because of it; I hadn't yet gotten used to a girl's smaller reach." Ranma extended her arm out, forming her hand into a fist. "It's... it was good experience. What we work with is the human body - well, sometimes not even human, given Ryouga or Mu Tsu - and learning to understand how it works as best we can, to use it to the best of our abilities." She relaxed her stance. "Nothing forces you to understand yourself - how your body works - like becoming someone else."

"Oh." Akane looked down at the floor. "So... what happened? Mom and Dad say you got stuck as a girl... but that Aunt Akane still loved you."

"I did." Ranma's eyes misted over. "And we did love each other despite that." She glanced back at the photograph. "And in some ways because of it."

Akane tilted her head to one side. "What's it like?"

"What's what like?" Ranma blanched at the question. "Getting stuck as a girl?"

"Being in love like that." Akane spat, clearly frustrated. "I mean, Mom and Dad try to explain it... but they're _Mom and Dad_." She glowered at Ranma. "And don't give me that 'You're too young' stuff, either."

Ranma looked hard at Akane. "Love? Wow." She rubbed her chin in thought. "Who's the person you're closest to?" She already strongly suspected the answer; however, the question still needed to be asked. "Doesn't have to be romantic - in fact, it'd probably be better if it wasn't."

"Ranko?" Akane shrugged. "I mean, we're closer to each other than any friends..."

Ranma nodded, having received the answer she expected. "How would you feel if she wasn't a part of your life anymore?"

Akane stepped back, as if slapped. "It... I can't. She really annoys me sometimes, but..." She shrugged, indicating she didn't have words for what she thought. "She's literally always been there."

Ranma gave Akane a sad smile. "Being in love is sort of like that. It's getting to the point where someone is so entangled in your life that you can't imagine them outside of your life - and don't want to. They are a part of you, and you are of them. You'd die for them." Her smile faded. "You'd kill for them," she whispered.

Akane's eyes widened. "I don't think I'd kill for my sister!"

"Really?" Ranma asked. "Not even if her life was being threatened?"

Akane remained silent. Her mouth moved up and down, as though trying to capture some word to say.

Ranma held up a hand to stop any possible response. "Kid, nobody's asking you to. It's just that, well... your mom and aunt... they did have to face that question." She shook her head. "It was a very dark time, kid. You know your mom and your aunt, as responsible adults. I knew Kasumi and Nabiki, long before you were born." Ranma swallowed hard, and looked over at the picture in the shrine. "Knew your namesake, too. Would have killed for her. Would have died for her, too."

"Are you getting together with Aunt Nabiki?" Akane asked.

Ranma blinked. "What makes you say that?"

"Puh-leeze," Akane said, hands on her hips. "Since you came back from the dead, it's all she's talked about. Ever since you arrived, you haven't taken your eyes off her. And, when you started crying, she was the one you went to." She growled, reminding Ranma of her namesake. "I may be a kid, but I'm not stupid."

Ranma groaned. "Okay, kid. Come on. I suspect your mom should have supper just about ready."

* * *

Ranma smiled contentedly as she chewed on a piece of cabbage.

Some foods were burned into Ranma's brain, to the point that she would die with the smell and taste at the edge of her mind - her mother's stewed daikon most prominent among them. Some surprising entries on the list were those not from excellent cooks, but from people who had been a large part of her life, such as Akane's five-alarm curry and her father's campfire mackerel.

Few, however, could compare to Kasumi's sukiyaki. Money had been tight for the Tendous after Kimiko's death; Kasumi, in taking the role of household cook, had taken great pride in perfecting meals that could feed a family of four, including two active martial artists, on a limited budget. She'd had plenty of practice in her sukiyaki recipe; by the time Ranma and Genma had joined the household, Kasumi had become a master of the dish. As a result, each bite of the meat or vegetables, each sip of the broth, was a welcome homecoming for Ranma.

She looked out at those arrayed around the old table in the center of the room. Soun remained at the head of the table, the patriarch of the clan stoically holding court over his family. Toufuu sat opposite Soun, the next generation waiting and observing; Ranma smiled as Kasumi sidled up beside him. The remainder of the family took various positions around the table, enjoying the meal to varying levels of alertness or bliss.

Ranma frowned. She knew the moods of the adults in the room. Something had Soun agitated. Given the history between her family and his, that was a cause for concern. Granted, it shouldn't be, given that the dojo had already passed to Toufuu and Kasumi, but the separated schools of the Art was still cause for worry.

She thought of the various techniques she'd learned over the course of her life and realized the best method for getting through it: the Saotome Secret Technique, Ranma variation.

"Kasumi, I have dreamed of this sukiyaki. It's excellent, thank you."

Kasumi responded in typical Japanese deprecation. "Oh, it's nothing, really..."

Ranma bit her lip, a bit of mock uncertainty. "Um... do you mind if I cook breakfast tomorrow?" She glanced over at three sets of eyes watching her from the other side of the table. "I suspect you don't get many chances to sleep in."

Kasumi's eyes widened in surprise. It was a joy for Ranma to see the interplay of emotions on her face. "Oh, there's no need for you to do that, Ranma!" She waved a dismissing hand. "Besides, the Mus and Kenzans should be coming for breakfast in the morning. There's going to be so much to prepare...!"

"All the more reason I should prepare it, then," Ranma replied. She blushed furiously. "Besides, I rarely get to cook for anyone besides Mom and myself. And you know how good I am in a kitchen..."

Toufuu lightly touched Kasumi on the arm. "She's right, you know..." He gave her a gentle smile. "Let it go for once, dear." Ranma raised an eyebrow at Toufuu's tone. She doubted the others could pick up on Toufuu's real motivations, but Ranma was an actor; Toufuu's meaning practically broadcast to her.

After a long moment and a couple more surreptitious glances, Kasumi nodded. "O... Okay. I've already bought the ingredients. I'll leave instructions for tomorrow. Is that all right?"

Ranma beamed. Kasumi had cooked for her enough in her youth; it was more than right for her to return the favor. "That'll be fine, Kasumi."

The conversation stopped as Soun set down his bowl of rice, theatrically laying the chopsticks on the bowl. Ranma looked over at Kasumi and Nabiki; both their gazes were locked onto their father's movements. She couldn't help but smile at the children; they continued to eat their meals with the clumsy, rushed-but-at-least-somewhat-polite method common to children. (That it took her seventeen years to get to that point would remain unsaid.) He raised his eyes to Ranma and Nodoka, a neutral mask to his features.

"I was wondering if you could tell me how Genma died."

Nodoka looked outside the dining area, to the evening sky beyond. "We don't know - not for certain." Ranma moved her hand to Nodoka's shoulder for comfort.

Soun's eyes narrowed. "You weren't there when he died?"

Nodoka shook her head. "Genma was... Genma was not the same person after leaving Nerima. Building and uniting the schools had been his goal for so long that, when he found it a secondary part of our lives... he wasn't really sure what to do. Living in Takarazuka never suited him, not really. And with Ranma busy at the School and later in the Revue... training trips with the two of them were few and far between. Because of this, it wasn't unusual for him to go for weeks at a time to train on his own. He would jump at any chance to learn a new technique or to perfect the Art."

Ranma chose that moment to interject. "I had landed my first major role, that of Alyosha Karamazov; it was too good an opportunity to pass up. I dove into the preparation for the work. While I was working on that, Pop said he was headed out on another training trip. Didn't think much about it; like Mom said, Pop went out on training trips all the time. He said he'd be back in time for the first show." She purposely looked downward into her bowl of rice. If she looked anyone in the eye, she would start crying. "I never saw him again," she whispered.

Nodoka continued the narrative. "We didn't hear anything for months. We filed a missing persons report once it was clear that Genma hadn't come back." She blushed. "I don't think they took us seriously. After all, Genma went away all the time; how was this any different?" She looked over at her daughter. "Ranma handled it the way she handled anything; she buried herself in her work."

Ranma looked up as she felt someone touch her free hand – Nabiki. Nodoka raised an eyebrow at the contact, then continued her story. "It wasn't until the following spring that Genma's camp was found, long neglected; it had been abandoned for months. The authorities started looking from there; a few days later, they found his remains at the bottom of a cliff." Nodoka's hands rubbed against her cup of tea. "According to the coroner's report, his skull was fractured, along with several bones; whatever they did indicated that the fractures occurred before he died. The suspicion is that he slipped off of the cliff or impacted against the cliff while in aerial training; the skull fracture would have knocked him unconscious, while his injuries..." Nodoka closed her eyes. "Regardless, his suffering was brief."

Ranma blinked at the reactions around the table. Kasumi rarely truly expressed her anger at anyone; given the laser glare she was shooting her father's way, Ranma wondered if she'd been oni-possessed. Nabiki's eyes shifted between her sister and father, her scowl deepening. Toufuu glanced at each of his children, though Ranma suspected by the way Toufuu quickly averted his gaze that the move was designed more to avoid his wife than see to his children's needs. Soun looked down at the table, not wanting to look anyone in the eye, tears falling down his cheeks. When he finally looked up, Ranma blinked; every one of his years and every tragedy he'd faced were etched in his frown. "Nodoka, Ranma... I'm sorry. I tried."

Nabiki startled next to Ranma; Ranma felt the twitch of muscles in Nabiki's hand. "Daddy...?"

Soun let out a long sigh. "Genma was wed to the road. Nothing could pry him away - not a wife, not children... nothing." He took a sip of his tea. "The open road... it's seductive, to martial artists. The only responsibility is to the Art: no job, no family, nothing to interfere. Going from that to wife, kids, job, responsibilities... it's not an easy transition." He glanced over at Kasumi. "As my daughters will attest."

Kasumi frowned. "But Father, you made the transition... mostly." Soun winced at the words; Toufuu inched himself toward his wife, and wrapped an arm around her, an effort to calm whatever tempest had ignited Kasumi's anger.

Soun looked positively sheepish as he returned Kasumi's gaze. "I made the transition because of you, Kasumi." He looked over at Nabiki. "You and Akane as well." He took a sip of his tea, to gether himself before elaborating. "I was not the best of husbands during the early years of our marriage. Kimiko was exasperated at the Master constantly calling us away to train. To be honest, I did not fight him much... until I had daughters. I felt I needed to care for them, to protect them, to raise them." He looked over at Ranma. "Genma no doubt felt similarly, but, well..." He grimaced. "It was perhaps sexist of me, but I felt I had to raise my daughters here. Genma, on the other hand, felt it best to raise his son on the road. Time rewarded my domesticity for the most part, but taught Genma that the road was where a martial artist like him - like his son – belonged." He leaned back, and looked up at the ceiling. "I really wish I had a cigarette right now."

"Father!" That last statement renewed Kasumi's ire.

Soun simply chuckled in reply, but there was no mirth in it. "Yes, I know, Kasumi – I know. It's just that, well… this is not an easy subject to talk about." He looked Ranma in the eye. "I didn't see it until the two of you had arrived here. You were... you were a child of the road, Ranma. Absolutely perfect in the Art. But bringing you and Genma back to us... back to society... that was a far tougher challenge, especially for your father. For you, it was actually somewhat straightforward - you discovered what it was like to live with other people, to interact with others. It took time - and, well, changes - but it shaved some of the rough edges off. But Genma..." His face twisted in pain. "I tried what I could. Tried to make him comfortable here, almost sedate, even, while every instinct of his had him wanting to go back to training. Encouraged him to get a job with you, Toufuu, so that he could go back to a day-to-day routine. Fought off the old master as much as I was able, to keep him - keep both of you - grounded here. Even sent a note to your mother informing her where the two of you were." Ranma blinked in surprise and glanced at her mother; Nodoka nodded in reply. "I didn't know about the seppuku pledge, and how that would complicate things. Genma... he was married to the road. Nothing could keep him away for long." He looked away. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Ranma looked over at her mother, a sick feeling in her stomach. Nodoka was crying, but made no move to disagree with Soun's words.

Ranma's hands were shaking. She desperately needed to get out, to practice, to immerse herself in her Art until she forgot that she even existed. She wanted to stop being Ranma, stop being anything for a little while, and her Art was the best way to do that.

Ranma's face turned downward to her own meal. After sukiyaki. Kasumi's sukiyaki, even salted with a few tears, was worth it. And given how hard she planned to work herself, she needed all the energy she could get.

* * *

One of the things Nabiki had come to love about her family and friends was the way they moved. All of them, herself included, had received some martial arts training; it provided a surety to their movements rarely found outside of the family. Daddy and Ryouga moved with the effortless power of a glacier, Kasumi and Toufuu with the easy flow of water. Even her nieces and nephews moved with purpose and grace, even if still somewhat unrefined.

The ultimate expression of that purpose and grace made itself known in front of her, a lost heir to the School dancing in the middle of the dojo in a basic black leotard.

Ranma flowed through her dance, her eyes closed, some unknown song playing in her head. She moved from position to position, a predictable, pleasing rhythm, likely a number from one of her many performances. It was a litany of perfection, every move calculated to the millimeter, yet somehow given a beauty more appropriate to the arts than to the Art. It was Kasumi's flow and Daddy's power, all in one lithe package. About the only issue with it was that it technically wasn't martial arts at all.

The dance reached its climax; Ranma was on her knees, hands splayed out around her, a dazzling smile on her face. Nabiki couldn't help herself; she started clapping.

"Bravo, Ranma!" Nabiki applauded.

Ranma turned around to face Nabiki. In an instant, the smile was gone, replaced with an embarrassed self-consciousness; she adjusted the fit of her leotard. "Thanks. Ever since I got in this business, well... let's just say that martial arts aren't the only art that I have to maintain."

Nabiki's eyebrows shot up. "Oh? What else have you been up to?"

"Well..." Ranma closed her eyes for a few seconds, let out a deep sigh, then opened them. Suddenly, Ranma's blue-eyed gaze hit her with the full force of a sledgehammer. So much pain, so much agony; for a moment, Nabiki felt like she was facing the seventeen-year-old that she and her sisters had talked back into living.

Nabiki's eyes widened. That was exactly what she was looking at – a seventeen-year-old Ranma, trying to find a reason to live. That year – Ranma's seventeenth, Nabiki's eighteenth – had not been a good one. She struggled to breathe as Ranma began to sing.

" This was who I once was  
Nothing left of then  
Time's run out for you and me  
Only question's when  
I know I don't deserve a thing  
Not after all I've done  
Every title held is gone  
No father, man, or son  
I'm not who I once was before  
But who I'm going to be  
I haven't got the faintest clue  
So please, won't you show me?"

Ranma reached out desperately to clasp Nabiki's hands, pleading as though her life depended on it. Nabiki shivered at the touch, every instinct urging her to run, but at the same time unable to turn away. She understood; it was Jekyll and Hyde all over again, a character with far more of Ranma than anyone outside of the family would realize.

Nabiki's heart dropped to the floor as she realized: her sister Akane had likely faced this exact moment – only without the tune to accompany it. She wondered how stark, how raw the moment had been for the two of them: two kids, at what should have been the beginning of their lives together, instead facing the end, wondering how to salvage the pieces of their relationship.

"Forced here under circumstance  
We tried to get along  
We fought and argued all the time  
So silly now, so wrong  
I've treated you so horribly  
Despite all that, you stayed.  
You kept your faith and hope in me  
Even when I strayed.  
You've gotten what you once desired  
Our ties are cut, you're free  
But if the love we held was real  
Just one more time – show me!"

Ranma's shaking fingers reached up to caress Nabiki's face. Her hands traced the curve of Nabiki's cheekbones and neck before returning to her original position, gently holding Nabiki's chin, trembling as though she was arguing for her very life; as they faced each other, a single tear rolled down Ranma's cheek. Nabiki's eyes were round as saucers as she took in Ranma's gaze, her heart pounding in her chest, her own tears threatening to join Ranma's. Ranma had always been intense, but this...!

"We had the world at one time  
The folly of the young  
Arrogance stole what we had  
But maybe we've begun  
This new world scares me to the core  
No past, just future time  
But what that future holds, my god!  
No reason, sense or rhyme  
I can't ask more than what you've done  
But please, just hear my plea  
I know I don't deserve you, but  
This one last time… show me."

Time stopped as the two stared at each other. At that moment, it was as though a fog had lifted from Ranma's eyes; Nabiki could see the other parts of her coming back to the fore as Ranma pulled herself away from the song.

Ranma blushed, and turned away. "S... sorry about that. When I get up on stage, I tend to be... intense." She self-consciously adjusted a leotard strap - something Nabiki was noticing was a nervous habit with Ranma. "Some of the other actors... well, let's just say I've made a few enemies because I tend to expect them to be the same way." She managed a weak smile. "Thanks, by the way. I needed to stop being me for a minute."

Nabiki tried to catch her breath. She had her suspicions as to where the song had come from; however, she had to know for sure. "What song was that?"

Ranma blushed. "Um… I wrote it. Been writing a production based on what we went through. Suspect I'll have to get permission from some people to use their likeness if I ever want to see it performed on stage. But, well… remember what I was like, just after Herb?"

Nabiki nodded jerkily, still shaken by Ranma's performance. "You mean… you…"

Ranma's smile morphed into a relaxed grin; she was clearly in a positive mood, but lacked the bluster common to the old Ranma. "At the 'zuka school, we had to learn just about everything with regard to the stage. Dancing, singing, and acting are what our fans see, but that's only a small part of what we need. For instance, to understand music, we each had to learn how to play a couple of musical instruments." Ranma shifted from Japanese to English, spoken with only a slight British accent. "We had to take several foreign languages and master them to fluency; English was a given." She switched between several other languages; Nabiki couldn't understand what was said, but knew enough to recognize French and Italian. Ranma then switched back to Japanese. "We also had to take courses in writing, in stagecraft, and in music theory so that we wouldn't just understand what to do, but why as well. All of that… well, all of that led to what you just saw." She sighed. "And, well, that takes practice to maintain. Singing and dance are every day, just like martial arts; I'll generally practice with the musical instruments several times a week."

Nabiki blinked. "Wow." That Ranma had grown from beyond the sixteen-year-old ragamuffin that showed up on the Tendou doorstep was obvious. That Ranma had developed so beautifully, into a complex, refined, and frightfully intelligent being with layers upon layers to explore, she was just beginning to appreciate. She thought about Ranma's language skills, and another question came to mind. "Have you ever been outside of Japan?"

Ranma nodded. "Sort of. We did a tour of the United States a couple of years back. Was nice, but I probably drove a couple of people crazy over there. Somehow, I don't think they were used to martial artists like me." Her smile twisted slightly. "The muggers certainly weren't."

"Well... you can't expect the world to be like Japan," Nabiki replied. She thought of the places she'd visited over the years. "As for me, well... been to a couple of places here and there. Los Angeles, Sydney, Singapore... friends have been to Hawaii and keep telling me to go, but..."

"I know." Ranma's voice was tight, her smile vanished. "Had to play Honolulu as part of the tour. I basically practiced - all the time. Everyone else thought I was nervous about the show." She grimaced. "I just didn't want to be reminded of the Kunous. Yeah, pineapple-head wasn't the one that did the deed, but..."

Nabiki found herself looking away. "Kasumi and Toufuu went to Honolulu for their honeymoon. Granted, part of that was so they'd be out of town when things went south, but..." Her voice took on a brittle edge. "Never had the urge to go there. Don't even want to think about there."

"Yeah." Ranma pursed her lips. "Mom told me about what was planned, with the wedding and blood feud and all." Nabiki startled as Ranma wrapped her arms around her. "Sorry to put you through that."

"Y..." Nabiki didn't say a word. She didn't trust herself to speak. Ranma just held on to her; Nabiki slowly inched her arms up Ranma's back as she took in the scent of Chanel and vanilla. Words tumbled from Nabiki's lips, words she'd written into rice paper and later mounted on her apartment wall, words burned forever into her psyche.

"Kingin wa  
chi to hikaku shite  
nanimonai."*

 _*translation: Gold and silver are nothing when compared to blood._

Ranma's breath hitched at the words, clearly understanding the meaning. "Death poem?"

Nabiki nodded, fighting back tears. "Thought about my life, when all that was going on. Didn't like what I found. If my life up to eighteen was it, if had to leave a final message... well."

"I... yeah. I understand that." Ranma took a deep breath, relaxed their embrace, and stared Nabiki in the eyes.

"Akai hana  
fuyu ne tooketsu  
haru ni saku."*

 _*translation: Red flower, frozen in winter, blooms in spring._

Ranma and Nabiki stared at each other, unable to turn away, the tears welling in their eyes clouding their vision. After a moment, Ranma forced her gaze from Nabiki, clearly embarrassed as she scratched the back of her head.

"I... I'd better get some sleep if I want to cook breakfast in the morning."

The impulse hit Nabiki before she could stop herself. "Can I join you?" Nabiki stopped and blushed, realizing the possible implications of what she'd just said. "I mean, to help cook."

Ranma stared at her for a long moment, as though weighing her martial arts skill. Finally, a gentle smile reached her features.

"Yeah, Nabiki. I'd like that a lot."

* * *

nightelf

September 3, 2018


	3. Full of Wise Saws and Modern Instances

All The World's A Stage

By nightelf

A work of fanfiction based on Takahashi Rumiko's Manga series, Ranma 1/2

Saotome Ranma, Saotome Genma, Saotome Nodoka, Tendou Akane, Tendou Soun, Tendou Kasumi, Tendou Nabiki, Kuonji Ukyou, Kenzan Konatsu, Hibiki Ryouga, P-chan, Unryuu Akari, Shan Pu, Mu Tsu, Kunou Tatewaki, Kunou Kodachi, Ono Toufuu, and Ninomiya Hinako are copyright 1987, 2018 by Takahashi Rumiko. Tenou Haruka and Kaiou Michiru are copyright 1991, 2018 by Takeuchi Naoko. All other characters are copyright 2018 nightelf. All rights reserved.

"Show Me" lyrics copyright 2018 nightelf. All rights reserved.

Publishing rights:

Japan: Shogakukan Inc. Tokyo

Hong Kong: Jademan (Holdings) Ltd.

North America: Viz Inc.

Chapter Three of Four: Full Of Wise Saws and Modern Instances

* * *

A familiar chirp woke Ranma from her slumber; blearily, she reached out for her phone. The schedule of a stage performer was too variable to not require at least some electronic assistance for waking up. Ranma had long gotten used to waking up by the chime of her cel phone, and quickly turned it off.

Whenever it went off, though, she didn't push the snooze button. She never woke without reason – and she always had a job to do. She quietly folded up her blanket and futon, wrapped a robe around herself, and padded her way downstairs and to the main house.

She raised an eyebrow once she entered the kitchen. Kasumi, unsurprisingly, had left out few details in her instructions. The breakfast would be a typical one - rice, pickles, miso, eggs, some mackerel, and a salad. What made cooking at a dojo different was the scale of the task. Seventeen people would be over for breakfast, most of whom had the activity - and thus, the energy requirements - of martial artists. In short, Kasumi had learned long ago how to feed large crowds.

The first order of business listed on the paper, though, left Ranma chuckling: grind some of Nabiki's stash of Jamaica Blue Mountain, bring a kettle of hot water to a boil, and prepare a pour-over. Ranma raised an eyebrow at the detail of the instructions, everything from preparing the cone to wetting the filter paper beforehand to the order and timing in brewing the cup of coffee.

Ranma glanced further at the paper Kasumi had left. At the bottom were Kasumi's own equally-detailed instructions for preparing a pot of her favorite gyokuro tea, along with a quick 'thank you' for letting her sleep in. Though she suspected neither would admit it, the two sisters were far more alike than people realized. Smiling, Ranma put on a kettle of water, and started to heat it up.

Kasumi, it seemed, understood her sister quite well. Ranma had just begun the second pour into the cone when Nabiki blearily walked into the kitchen.

"Good morning, Nabiki," Ranma said tenderly. She'd had a few mornings when she hadn't had enough sleep, especially when she was just getting used to the rhythm of stage life; she knew the last thing Nabiki would want was any loud or cheerful noise.

"Mornin'", Nabiki mumbled. Nabiki was about as expected, given the hour. Her hair was disheveled and in need of a brush; dark circles ringed her eyes. A fluffy robe fit over sky-blue silk pajamas.

Ranma smiled at Nabiki's attire, and thought about the t-shirt and boxers beneath her own robe. There was something to be said about being comfortable - being yourself - with another person. She stopped her pour, glanced at the clock, then turned to Nabiki. "Coffee will be ready in a minute or two."

"And following Kasumi's instructions, I see." Nabiki managed an unsteady grin through her early-morning fog. "Sorry; I got used to good coffee in high school, and it only got worse once I went out into the real world."

"No worries there," Ranma answered. She waited for the requisite thirty seconds, then began a final pour. "There's a reason why the term 'Prima Donna' exists. And when everyone you work with is a 'donna' of some type..." She shook her head. "You'd be amazed what some of the stars demand sometimes."

Nabiki sniffed the coffee in the air. "When we w're younger, Kasumi asked a kissaten friend of hers how to make a good cup of coffee. Now... well, the beans are better, but the old techniques still work." Nabiki blinked as a thought crossed through her sleep-deprived mind. "Did Kasumi leave her tea instructions?"

Ranma grinned, and nodded. "Those were the last of the instructions. Which probably indicates when she plans to wake up." She poured the last of the water in the cone, and waited for the grounds to drain.

"Unless, of course, she and Toufuu plan to enjoy a little 'alone time'..." Ranma smiled at Nabiki's comment. It was fascinating watching her mind slowly pick up speed. "It's pretty hard for them to get time alone anymore. Sometimes they'll ask me to come over and help Daddy watch the kids while they go away for a weekend." Ranma chose that moment to hand Nabiki her coffee; Nabiki sniffed the mug, then took an experimental sip. "Mmmm... you make a fine cup of coffee. You sure you never thought about becoming someone's housewife?"

Ranma took a moment to think about what Nabiki had said as she pulled mackerel filets from the refrigerator. A picture entered her mind; herself, wearing a housedress like Kasumi regularly wore, cooking for some faceless salaryman. The thought was so absurd as to cause her to burst out laughing. "A housewife? Me? I mean, sure I can cook and the like... but honestly. Me? Really?" She shook her head in disbelief as she dipped each mackerel filet into a bowl of sake, then set them aside. "Man, what kind of odds would that have earned in a betting pool?"

Nabiki looked up at the ceiling for a moment. "Well... let's see. For marriage, the odds were as follows: Ryouga, at his highest, was at 6-1 - this was about the same time as the Koi Rod incident - but was usually 10-1. Kunou started off at 12-1 at the beginning, then slowly descended to about 20-1. Mu Tsu was 25-1; that never really changed." She shrugged. "Overall, the odds of you getting with a guy wavered between about 4-1 and 8-1 before your curse was locked, and stabilized at 2-1 after."

As she pondered the numbers Nabiki supplied, a second picture, similar to the first, entered her mind. Herself, wearing a Takarazuka stage butler's suit, elegantly serving Nabiki in an intricately-carved Western-style dining room. The idea of being Nabiki's butler brought a smile to her face; that was a life she could live with. The question instantly made it to her lips. "What odds did you get?"

"Me?" Nabiki asked. She took a sip of her coffee, and grimaced. "Highest was 5-1, during the brief time that the engagement was switched to me. Otherwise, it was about 20-1." Her eyes bored into her coffee. "That, I suspect, was more me than you; most people expected me to be a lifelong OL and bachelorette." She growled slightly. "Granted, they probably weren't far off."

Ranma raised an eyebrow. "Anyone ever take that bet?"

"Only Noriko, one of my friends from school." Her hands curled around the mug tenderly with both hands; a quiet smile adorned her features. "A few days after the engagement went back to Akane and the odds went back to 20-1, she made a thousand-yen bet." She took a sip of her coffee. "She said I'd figure it out one day, and that I'd gladly pay her twenty thousand once I did. I thought it was easy money, so I took her bet."

Ranma chuckled. "So what was the betting action like?"

"Well..." Nabiki gathered her thoughts. "I got lucky in one respect. At least fifty people were betting you'd die before marrying anyone. I didn't offer odds for that - thank goodness, as I would have lost my shirt after you disappeared. Akane and Ukyou took most of the betting, with Shan Pu and Kodachi each taking a few. There was a sizeable contingent of students - about 15-20 students, all girls - who bet on either Ryouga or Kunou. Most of these bets were made before your curse was locked. Yeah; some girls just liked their yaoi manga way too much." Her face twisted. "A couple of people made odds that you'd build up a harem of some kind; it shouldn't be much of a surprise to you that Hiroshi was one. The two strangest offers I got... one person wanted odds on Ms. Hinako, another asked for Principal Kunou." Ranma's face twisted; Nabiki set her cup of coffee down on the counter. "Yeah. That was my reaction, too."

"Me... and Principal Kunou? Really?" Ranma pulled the vegetables from the refrigerator and put them down on the counter. "That is wrong in so many ways."

"Tell me about it." Nabiki braced herself on the countertop with her hands. "That was one of the problems with what I did in high school; I got to see some unpleasant sides of humanity. After everything that happened, well… let's just say that I had a lot of soul-searching to do after I graduated."

Ranma nodded. "We all did, Nabiki. In our own ways, yeah, but we all did." She passed the vegetables over to Nabiki. "Can you wash the veggies? I can chop and slice them once they're washed - I can get that done in seconds - but washing them would take time, and I need to get the eggs started."

Nabiki started washing the vegetables; Ranma pulled out a bowl, and began cracking eggs into the bowl. "So. How much cooking do you do?"

"A bit," Nabiki replied. "A person cannot live on takeout alone - especially in Tokyo. It gets expensive after awhile. So I learned to cook a few basics. I'm nowhere near as good as Kasumi; then again, who is?"

"Indeed," Ranma agreed. She pulled out a square pan and put it on a burner. "Was on the road with Pop for a decade. You think he was going to cook anything when he could just have me do it?" Nabiki snorted in response. "I could cook a few things fairly well by the time I'd joined the Revue. After Pop died, Mom tried to teach me what she knew; I think she was afraid her recipes would die with her." She oiled the pan, then poured in some of her eggs. "Only problem was that I never really had much of an opportunity beyond that."

Nabiki set down the vegetables. "I'll get the rice going. Do you mind if I do the miso?" She blushed. "Kasumi taught me, so..."

"That's fine," Ranma replied. "I'll start the mackerel broiling once I'm done with the eggs." She winked. "Pops taught me, so..." The two worked in companionable silence for a few minutes, each busy with their own preparations, neither one feeling the need to interrupt.

"Can you slice up the onions, mushrooms, and tofu quick?" Nabiki finally asked.

Ranma turned to her, a mischievous glint in her eyes. She flipped the eggs in the pan onto a plate; the eggs folded perfectly before landing. "Is the miso broth ready?" Ranma asked. Nabiki nodded apprehensively.

Ranma knew how her actions looked to outsiders - even to outsiders who knew the source of her skills, such as Nabiki. Normal was something she never was, and never would be; she'd learned long ago not to hesitate with her skills, and to just use them. She tossed the scallions, mushrooms, and blocks of tofu into the air, each cut calculated to move the item to a specific location. In a second, the material began landing in the miso pot, dripping into the broth like a rainstorm.

Nabiki rolled her eyes. "Martial Arts Cooking?"

Ranma grinned. "Probably the one type of martial arts I was never challenged on. Shame; I would have preferred that over that Picolet Chardin mess any day." She set the knife to the side, and began to wash her hands. "Time to put the mackerel in the oven." She laid the fish down on the pan one by one, then placed the fish in the oven. Voices were beginning to make themselves known outside of the kitchen; Ranma took a step out toward the door, then stopped.

"Ranma?" Nabiki asked, placing her hand on Ranma's arm.

Ranma took a deep breath. The voices she'd heard were familiar to her, people she'd known, people she would have lived and died for - Ucchan, Konatsu, Mu Tsu. Life had given those voices resonances that teenagers lacked, but it was clearly them. It took effort to not go out and greet them. "Let's finish cooking, then go out. If I go out there now, I'll never finish – and we're going to need more eggs." She turned back to the stove; she put a teakettle on one burner, while preparing a serving of eggs on another. "How's the miso coming?"

Nabiki poured a sample of the miso and tasted it. "Give it another minute or so."

Ranma finished the batch of eggs and folded it onto another plate; a few minutes later, she retrieved the mackerel from the oven. She looked back at the table behind them, where much of their food waited. One more dish remained - well, two, if she counted Kasumi's tea. "If you thought slicing material for the miso soup was fun, watch this." She picked up another knife and brandished it in front of her; on the table, she set an empty salad bowl.

The Art was there for her. The Art had always been there for her. It had long been the last refuge for her life - and, while she'd never admit it, meeting more old friends unnerved her. The Art, however, was always within her control. She tossed her vegetables in the air and blurred, each move perfectly calculated, each cut measured to the millimeter.

The vegetables settled perfectly into the bowl, the tomatoes and radishes forming a ring on top of the greens. Her breath hitched in her throat as she looked on the finished product, and remembered the first time she had made a salad like that, all to one-up, to 'out-girl' her fiancée in front of her mother.

Another sin she had waiting for her at the end of her life.

Nabiki clapped her hands in appreciation. "Nice! How did you get the vegetables to form a ring like that?"

Ranma shook her head. "If you cut in just the right way, then push each of the pieces to their destination as you're cutting... well." She looked over at the finished meal, then at the warming teakettle; she felt the temperature of the kettle to be sure it was close to the right temperature, then transferred the water to a tea set. "Could you bring Kasumi in here to bring the food out? I think I'm going to be busy once I leave the kitchen."

"Actually, I have a better idea." Nabiki glanced toward the door. "Bring Kasumi's tea out to her. No one would dare interfere with that. As for the rest..." She stuck her head out the door, to the living area. "Ranko, Akane, Katsuo? Can you help us bring the food out and to set the tables? We have a lot of people here today, so we're going to need some help."

Ranma felt outside of herself as she picked up Kasumi's tea set, then stopped. Being nervous wasn't like her; she always found a way to cope - and she had the perfect method. A quick-and-surreptitious trip to the dojo and back netted her a masculine suit; with a couple of adjustments, she could pass as a faithful butler - just as she'd imagined serving Nabiki. She kept her composure as she left the kitchen, subsuming herself in the role. Nabiki had been right; no one dared interfere with her while she was carrying Kasumi's tea set, and the acting simply exacerbated matters.

The crowd that had gathered in the dining room was an eclectic mix of people she knew, and those she didn't. Kasumi had already taken her place at the table, gently waiting for her tea; as she had all-too-often been the one to serve everyone else, no one minded. A passel of women gathered around her at the table, as Ukyou and Konatsu sat next to each other on Kasumi's right, while an unknown woman sat to Kasumi's left. Ranma raised an eyebrow at Ukyou's baby bump. She set the tea service in front of Kasumi and poured the tea in front of her.

"Your tea, milady."

The reactions from the others at the table were priceless. Ukyou's eyes were as wide as saucers, while Konatsu tittered in laughter. The other woman, presumably Mu Tsu's wife, simply looked on, mouth agape.

Kasumi, to her credit, played along with Ranma's role, fighting her giggles all the while. "Thank you, Ran. I look forward to seeing what you have prepared for breakfast this morning."

Ranma nodded obsequiously. "This morning's breakfast, prepared by myself and your faithful chef Nabiki, consists of miso soup and rice, a folded omelet, broiled mackerel, a salad with sesame dressing, and pickled vegetables. I trust this will be to your satisfaction?"

"Yes, I do believe that will be quite satisfactory, Ran." She gestured to an empty place at the table. "Now please, sit. I do believe my guests are about to act in a quite undignified manner."

The words were cue enough for Ukyou; she launched herself at Ranma, latching her into a fierce hug. "Ranchan! God, I've missed you!" A moment later, Ukyou began to cry in her arms. "Oh, Ranchan..."

The hug, at least, was enough to calm Ranma's nerves. It was just meeting old friends once more. "Good to see you too, Ucchan." She vaguely heard Kasumi converse with the mystery woman.

The two broke the hug; Ranma got a good look at her first friend. Ukyou hadn't gained much weight as a result of pregnancy; if anything, it made her gravid condition all the more apparent, as she was clearly due within the next month or two. Unlike Kasumi or Nabiki, she still wore her hair long, tied back in a high ponytail. Her clothes were only a slight modification from her teenage years, with capri pants replacing her earlier tights, and a purple maternity dress serving as top. Ucchan continued to cry for another minute, even as she began to converse with Ranma. "Ranchan... how...?"

Ranma grinned. "I've been told that I'm not escaping here tonight without telling the story." Her smile faltered; she reached up to wipe Ukyou's tears from her cheeks. "That said, I'd prefer to tell it only once. Okay?"

Ukyou nodded uncertainly. "O... Okay. So what are you doing nowadays?" She wiped her tears with her hand. "Acting as Kasumi's butler?"

Ranma blinked. "Did Kasumi not tell you?"

A fierce blush erupted on Ukyou's features. "I... sort of fainted once I heard you were alive."

"Oh," Ranma found herself matching Ukyou's blush. "Um... are you familiar with the Takarazuka Revue?"

Ukyou stared at her for a long moment, her eyes wide. After a minute, her face palmed into her hand. "You have got to be kidding." She shook her head. "You? In the Revue?"

"Yeah," Ranma replied. "Mom grew up in the area; after I had to leave Nerima, Mom sort of pushed me into the Takarazuka school to keep me busy, keep me from dwelling on what happened. Things kinda snowballed from there. I'm one of the lead otokoyaku in Cosmos troupe now."

"Otokoyaku," Ukyou muttered. "Of course you are." She looked up to the ceiling, exasperated with herself. "Why didn't I think to look there..."

Ranma grinned. "Let's face it: I wasn't exactly prime Takarazuka material back then."

"Very true," Ukyou conceded. "Still... it's good to have you back, Ranchan." She hugged Ranma again.

Ranma looked over at Konatsu while Ukyou hugged her. "Hey, Konatsu. How are things?"

Konatsu smiled, her pale lipstick glistening in the morning light. "Quite well, Ranma. It is good to see that Kodachi did not succeed, as she claimed." Konatsu, if anything, had become even more skilled at presenting as a female. Oftentimes a woman dressed to hide flaws and accentuate beauty; Konatsu had few flaws that Ranma could see. Porcelain face, perfectly made up; hair professionally styled into cascading waves; a trim figure accentuated by the skirt and blouse she wore. Konatsu practically radiated protectiveness, as she hovered over her wife. "Your actions were most... kunoichi. Let your opponents believe you dead, so that you may act with impunity. My clan would be proud."

"Er... thanks," Ranma replied. "Though I was referring in more general terms - family, restaurant, things like that."

"Oh." Konatsu blushed. "We married eight years ago; our anniversary is in October. We have two children; Reiko is seven and in second grade, while Hikaru is three. We have another due in about three weeks." She pursed her lips. "As you can imagine, our lives are rather hectic at this moment. For once, we were grateful for an excuse for a day off; I have been begging Ukyou to take it easy so close to the due date."

"I'm fine," Ukyou growled, holding onto Ranma tighter. "I'm pregnant, not an invalid." She smiled sweetly as she looked back at Konatsu. "Dear, while I appreciate your concern, I would not be me if I took so much time off from the restaurant." Her smile faded into a soft plea. "It's my Art. It's too much of me. You of all people would know that, Ranma."

"I would," Ranma admitted. She was about to explain just how much the Art - any of her Arts - were to her, when she was interrupted by an unfamiliar voice.

"Excuse me, but are you Akimoto Ran?" The fourth woman in the group spoke up. Ranma noticed the details of her presentation: the manicured fingernails, the casual but well-tailored dress. Her black hair was slightly permed, and reached down to her shoulders.

Ranma pondered a response to the woman's question. After a moment, she decided that actions spoke louder than words; she switched into the fighting outfit she'd used against Soun the previous day. "That depends. Is this Takarazuka?"

"Oh, my..." The woman wasn't a martial artist - an oddity in the crowd. "I'm, um... I'm a big fan, um... ah... what are you doing here in Nerima?"

Ranma beamed. "Visiting old friends. I knew the Tendous, and Ucchan and Konatsu, and Mu Tsu, back when I went to Furinkan."

Her eyes widened. "You... you knew my husband?" She whirled around to the crowd of men talking near the back entrance. "Mu Tsu!"

A collective 'uh oh' went up from the men's group. Mu Tsu turned around, and sheepishly faced his wife. "Yes, dear?"

The young woman put her hands on her hips. "Why didn't you tell me you knew Akimoto Ran?"

"Who?" Mu Tsu asked.

Ranma raised a hand. "Um, sorry, Mu Tsu... didn't mean to get you in trouble." She turned to the young woman. "He didn't know, because I didn't go to Furinkan under the name of Akimoto Ran. I actually went by the name of Saotome Ranma when I was a teenager." She reached out her hand. "Hi. I'm Ranma. What's your name?"

At this, the woman blanched. "Wait... you're _that_ Ranma? The one that disappeared all those years ago?" She nodded slowly. "And that explains so much..." She recovered, and accepted Ranma's hand. "I'm Li. Mu Li." She touched her husband's arm. "This lunk head's wife."

Mu Tsu sighed exasperatingly as he joined his wife. "Getting me in trouble again, Saotome?" He smiled at the humor of the situation.

Ranma grinned. "Given my life, what do you expect?"

Mu Tsu laughed in response, and shook Ranma's hand. "It's good to see you, Ranma." His eyes twinkled; for a moment, Ranma wondered if he'd had laser surgery or if he was wearing contacts. He put a hand into his pocket, giving his wife a handle to latch on to with his arm. "Before you ask, not a word of this will be going back to Joketsuzoku. As far as the Elder Council are concerned, everyone in Nerima, myself included, is dead. As half of us were kill-on-sight to them before they came to these conclusions, I see no need to correct their assumptions." He looked outside; a shadow fell over his eyes. "Shan Pu will occasionally send me updates through Plum; she doesn't dare send them directly. Khu Lon died two years ago; Pu Rei took over as High Elder. Unfortunately, Pu Rei isn't the battle mistress Khu Lon was; there's some rumblings that she took the position for the prestige, and not to protect the village." He shook his head. "Idiot. Especially with the Musk and Phoenix active now... well, needless to say, it's not looking good for the village. Shan Pu gives even odds the idiot will be killed by her own warriors. She just hopes her family will survive that long." He shook his head; his wife held him tight.

"Dear, let it be." Li reached up and kissed him on the cheek. "I know it hurts, but they will do what they will do."

"I know," Mu Tsu nodded. It was clearly an old concern for him. "Shan Pu is not in a good way. Her eldest daughter died in a 'training accident' six months ago. Shan Pu suspects something else, though."

Ranma's eyes widened. It felt like screaming inside of her ears, as every martial arts instinct rose to the fore. "Assassination? Of a child?"

"What better way to solidify your power than to kill off the family of your greatest internal threat?" Mu Tsu looked far away. "Her younger daughter... Shan Pu has asked us to take her in if things get worse. I suspect she and her family would have gone here already, but it's a pretty good bet that the Joketsuzoku would come hunting here if she left the village."

Ranma frowned. A hundred possibilities roared in her head at that moment. The teenager in her wouldn't have hesitated to act. The adult, she realized, shouldn't hesitate either. "Let her know that there's more resources in Japan than what Nerima has to offer, if she wants to come here."

Mu Tsu snapped back to face Ranma. "Are you sure? I mean, if someone other than Shan Pu reads between the lines..."

Ranma felt something surge within her – something old but pure, something within her capability to understand and act upon. For a moment, she felt sixteen again, in familiar ground; she had a threat to address, an enemy to fight, a person to defend. "I'm sure. If nothing else, say that Clan Saotome is willing to find a place for her to hide, as recognition for her actions in avenging their daughter's death."

Mu Tsu nodded warily. "Okay. If you're sure… okay." He gritted his teeth. "That said... I think she thinks she's protecting my family. I think that's the only reason she hasn't left already."

"I... I understand that," Ranma said reluctantly. She bowed to Mu Li. "Sorry for bringing up less than pleasant subjects. How are you doing?"

Mu Li's brow furrowed in confusion. "I'm doing well. Though I wonder why you would be so concerned about Shan Pu."

Ranma and Mu Tsu just looked at each other for a moment, before chuckling. "Well... you know my line of work, right?" Ranma asked.

Mu Li nodded. "Of course. _Doctor Jekyll and Miss Hyde, The Spirit of the Samurai, Man of La Mancha_ … I absolutely love your work!"

"Yeah, well..." Ranma's face twisted. "I'm guessing Mu Tsu has told you about the Joketsuzoku laws regarding people who beat their warriors in combat?" Mu Li's eyes widened as realization dawned. "Well... depending on how girly I was looking that day -" Mu Tsu snorted at that; Ranma glared at him, "Shan Pu either wanted to kill me or marry me. I visited her village, beat her when I was looking girly... then, after she chased me to Japan, I beat her again - when I was looking like a guy."

Mu Li shook her head. "Oh, dear... So she didn't know whether to kill you or marry you!" She looked askance at Ranma. "And I thought you were just crazy on stage!"

Ranma waved a hand in Mu Li's direction. "Meh. Compared to Nerima, the Takarazuka stage is nothing. Let's face it: if you can survive Nerima, you can survive anything!" Her face suddenly fell as she realized what she said. "... yeah."

A shadow passed over both Ranma and Mu Tsu; after a moment, Mu Tsu pulled out his wallet and moved toward Ranma, putting his arm around Ranma's shoulders. Ranma had to blink at the incongruity of the photo in front of her: a Mu Tsu dressed in a business suit, alongside his wife and two daughters.

"If you want to know what I'll fight for... everything is right here. Mu Li you know. The oldest one, that's Ran."

Ranma gave Mu Tsu a half-lidded stare. She knew she had been the inspiration for the name of Mu Tsu's daughter. That said, her full name... "Mu Ran?"

Mu Tsu shrugged. "Yeah, well, we named her long before the movie came out. Besides, one: she liked the movie, and two: if you want to raise a strong woman... can you think of a better name than Mulan?" He smiled, with soft lines of worry decorating his eyes. "She's ten, and just starting to reach that age where she's starting to get self-conscious; she needs all the role models she can get."

Ranma grinned. "Point."

He then pointed to his younger child. "And that's Chou. Those two... scary how smart they are. They'll leave me in the dust one day."

Mu Tsu continued to explain to Ranma about his children; Ranma smiled, and absorbed every word. The nervousness at meeting everyone again was gone. The roles were defined, the script well-practiced. And, while her place in that production had certainly changed, coming back to it all felt right.

* * *

"Ryouga!" Ranma's eyes lit up as her old rival entered the room. Instinctively, she rose up from her sitting position and hugged him.

"Er, hey, Ranma…" Ryouga hesitatingly put his arms around her. Ranma noticed a small crowd of people pour around them, likely his family; she took a moment to gauge the situation, then blushed as she realized what she'd done. She gave him a gentle squeeze, relaxed her smile, then took a step back.

She'd hugged Ryouga. The Ranma he remembered was a very different one. By the end of her time in Nerima, she was a woman, and had clearly become comfortable with that fact; however, she had always classified Ryouga as "fellow guy", even if she wasn't a "guy" anymore. And, well, in the guy code (at least, the outdated version she used), guys didn't hug guys.

Her blush intensified; she clasped her hands together. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Ryouga replied, smiling quietly; Ranma took a moment to get a good look at him. In so many ways, he was what she was not. He was tan, rugged, the product of years of work on the farm; her soft, pale skin tone reflected the predominance of city life in her existence. His musculature was a similar divide; Ryouga's broad, powerful legs, arms, and shoulders were in sharp contrast to her own lithe frame. Their demeanors, however, were even more striking. Ryouga was calm, relaxed, settled into domestic life; she had no doubts that those shoulders of his had carried his children many a time. For her, it was her art, always her art, no matter what that art was. She never really unplugged, never really had a way to unplug. The art, the role was her life. Ryouga's family was his. In its own way, that divide, that separation, that definition of "Ryouga" and "Ranma", was more pronounced than their genders.

The part of her that could appreciate the masculine form smirked quietly within her. She had eventually come to understand that, on occasion, she could and would be attracted to men; she couldn't quite bring herself to form a relationship with one, but she could at least admire Ryouga's perfection of form - his hard muscles, rugged face, soulful eyes…

In a moment's time, Ranma turned away. Akari stood next to Ryouga, her eyebrow raised, an odd smile on her features. "Akari! How are you doing?"

Akari gave her an askance look as she held a baby in her arms. "Oh, I'm good. How are you?" The tone in her voice indicated that she could tell just what Ranma was thinking.

"Okay," Ranma replied, a bit sheepishly. She'd forgotten about the girl code, which she clearly had to follow now: don't be too obvious when checking out a married man. Which meant, well, she'd messed up. One thing Ranma had learned since leaving Nerima was how to deal with particular people. Some people could not be trusted with the truth, she knew; others would accept no other coin. Akari, fortunately for her, was the latter, and moreover was likely mature enough to accept it. "Sorry about that."

"It's all right," Akari replied, clearly relaxing, a knowing smile on her face. No doubt she'd had to deal with similar looks from similar women over the years. "So I heard you're an actress now?"

Ranma ran her fingers through her short hair self-consciously. "Yeah… went into the Takarazuka Revue shortly after leaving Nerima. I figured if I couldn't be a guy, I might as well get the chance to act like one." She shrugged. "It's a fun life."

Akari chuckled at the idea. "It's a little different on the farm… but it's a fun life, too. The kids keep me busy; imagine having to raise four kids, all with his strength and capacity for mischief." Ranma nodded in understanding; by the time she'd known Ryouga, he'd already become a moody teenager, but it was clear he would have been an active child at least, if not hyperactive. "It doesn't help that the kids are about as bad at getting lost as he is. At least they know the boundaries of the farm, and know not to go beyond those." She raised an eyebrow. "Anyone in your life?"

Ranma shook her head. "Officially, I'm not supposed to be attached while I'm with the Revue. A few of my colleagues have quiet, unofficial relationships, but if we want to make it official, it means leaving the Revue."

Ryouga smirked at that comment. "So. Been in any… unofficial relationships lately?"

Ranma looked over at Nabiki as she conversed with Ukyou and Konatsu. She'd always held a strong appreciation for the female form; to her relief, that attraction had never gone away. What Ranma found most attractive about Nabiki was her eyes. Nabiki's dark eyes were always in motion, her mind constantly working. Though it may never have seemed like it, all of the Tendou women were martial artists at an instinctive level; the only difference between them was how they used that gift. Nabiki was a master of situational awareness - of watching the myriad actors within a room and how they interacted, and how to respond. Watching Nabiki's mind dance through the mirrors of the soul sent shivers down Ranma's spine.

Of course, that wasn't intended to deprecate any other part of her. She was still trim and fit, if not to a martial artist's level; her curves could stop any man cold - and a few women as well. She was a symphony of proportions, a classic beauty who'd grown into her body, with modest breasts, a beautiful sloping curve to the hips, and toned legs.

She blinked for a moment. She looked at Nabiki, who by this time was occasionally glancing back at her, then looked over at Ryouga.

For once, it seemed that art and life matched. She wasn't sure what to think about that, but she did know how to respond to Ryouga's question.

"My life is weird enough as it is," Ranma groused.

"And how is this different from normal?" Ryouga asked, a grin on his face.

Ranma slapped his arm. "Jerk," she muttered, even as she chuckled at the statement. The look on her face indicated she wasn't completely serious.

Ryouga's smile faded, concern written in his eyes. "Seriously… are you okay with things?" He put a hand on Ranma's shoulder; Ranma shivered at the touch. "Your life, I mean."

Ranma understood the implications of the question. "To be honest, I don't know. I mean, I'm fine with who I've become… I'm just not sure what the next step is." She looked around at the closest thing she had to family, how they'd grown in her absence. "It's a fun life… but I'm not sure I want to do it for the rest of my life."

Akari nodded. "I can understand that. I think all of us have parts of our lives we're happy with, and parts of our lives we wish could be better." She sighed wistfully, and gently leaned into her husband. "I'm happy with the life I have. Raising the kids, dealing with this lunk, working with the pigs on the farm… it's a good life." She looked off to the side, at nothing in particular. "But I always wonder what city life would have been life."

"City life is overrated," Ranma replied. "It's busy, but it's loud; it has everything except what you need." As the words left her mouth, she found herself staring at Nabiki, the words trailing off.

Ryouga's eyes narrowed at her pensive expression. "What are you thinking about, Ranma?"

The comment brought her back to reality; in an instant, the performer had returned, wearing a rogue's grin. "A gentleman never kisses and tells, Ryouga. Neither does a lady, for that matter." Her left eyebrow twitched upward, making her look even more the scoundrel. "As it is, I happen to be both."

* * *

As Ranma faced off against her opponent, she knew: it was finally time to act.

Unfortunately.

Put simply, Ryouga had perfected his style. The Breaking Point technique toughened a martial artist to the point that ordinary hits had little to no effect. In Ryouga's case, this simplified his defense considerably; he only needed to worry about protecting "soft" or vulnerable parts of his body, and could leave large areas of his body exposed. Ranma had tried penetrating his defenses, but only found a body rendered rock-hard from years of training.

Also unfortunately: The Saotome 'Victoria's Secret' Technique (as her trick yesterday had been dubbed) was not going to work in this case. That technique operated on surprise; since everyone had heard about yesterday's fight, using it again would be both useless and silly. Advanced ki techniques were out because of the likely damage to the building; blowing the roof off of the building would generally be considered impolite. All of these issues left only one option to her - acting.

For a martial artist like herself, it was child's play. Increase her breathing, let it become more labored. Increase the heart rate, causing her body and face to become flush with blood. Get just a tad slower in her attacks. Make it look as though she was tiring; make it look as though she was about to make a mistake. She launched another attack, springing from one of the walls, this one just a tad sloppier than before.

Eventually, he'd fall for it, Ranma thought. Eventually, he'd go on the offensive, thinking he had her. If she could fool him with all sorts of disguises when she knew nothing about acting, there was no way he wouldn't fall for her act now.

She tried for another attack, this one going low; Ryouga started to press in response. Inwardly, Ranma smiled. She let herself get pushed back slightly, letting him think she was tired, letting him think she was vulnerable...

There! Ryouga flexed his muscles, about to extend just a bit too much on a punch. Ranma's eyes widened. She ducked, then launched a fist at his chin.

Ryouga twisted slightly, and Ranma gulped. A feint! Ryouga grabbed Ranma's arm, changing her momentum; a moment later, she felt a fist impact against her temple, sending her to the floor. "Winner - Ryouga!" she heard Kasumi announce, though the words seemed far away as she fought to remain conscious.

She managed to push herself into a sitting position; she looked around blearily, trying to get her bearings. Voices could be heard around her, but she couldn't make sense of them.

She felt a hand touch her shoulder. "Ranma? Are you okay?" The voice sounded muted, as though spoken through a mask. Ranma put a hand to her head, trying to clear the fog around her.

"Ah... abuh... uh... whoa." Her vision swam back into focus. "Ryouga... you still punch hard."

"Eloquent as ever, Ranma," Ryouga laughed. He offered a hand to her to pick her up, then stopped.

Ranma blinked. For a moment, she wondered if she was decent; she did fight in a modified cheongsam, after all. "Ryouga?"

Ryouga glanced behind himself. "Ranma, do you mind helping me with a parenting moment?"

Ranma's brow furrowed in confusion. Her head was still ringing from the shot she'd taken. "Sure, I guess."

"Thanks," Ryouga grinned. He then turned toward his children. "Kappei, Matsuo, could you come here for a minute?"

Ranma managed a smile at the group that made their way around Ryouga. More than two joined Ryouga in the center of the dojo. The oldest was about ten, and was like looking at Ryouga in miniature; his dark eyes and touseled black hair reminded Ranma a great deal of his old junior-high classmate. The second was a couple of years younger, slimmer, with his mother's eyes and facial features. A toddler dressed in overalls followed the pair, her hair styled with a pink streak through her hair like her mother, and looked on the world with a broad, fang-toothed grin; she latched onto Ryouga's leg at the first opportunity.

Ryouga smiled, and effortlessly picked his daughter up into his arms. The girl instinctively latched onto Ryouga's neck, and leaned into the carry.

The girl looked at him seriously. "Piggy time?"

Ryouga snorted. "Maybe later, sweetie." He then turned to the two boys. "Kappei... you know the trouble you've been having at school with Hayao?"

The reaction was instantaneous; the oldest boy scowled, and looked away. "Stupid jerk."

Ryouga nodded sagely. Ranma looked on at Ryouga in admiration; wisdom and peace clearly suited him. "Well... when I was your age, I had a rival, too - Ranma, here. Always kept getting the bread at lunchtime; always just a hair faster than me." Emotions twisted his face for a moment. "Well... things escalated. Things got worse. Eventually, I followed Ranma all the way to China, to finish the fight we'd started." He relaxed and grinned, and looked over at his daughter. "That's where the piggy comes from." He poked his daughter in the nose, and she giggled. "I blamed Ranma for that, too," he said softly.

He then looked down at his feet for a moment. "When I was your age, I would have given anything to beat Ranma. Like I said, I even followed Ranma all the way to China to finish our fight." He then looked at Ranma. "Well, I just beat her. I got what I'd wished for all those years ago. And you know what I feel right now?" He swallowed, hard; Ranma watched the movement of muscles in his throat. "I'm just grateful she's alive and well and happy. See, someone else, well... the rivalry, the fights and disagreements that were going on between all of us at the time, took them to a place there's no going back from. A psychopath... well, this psychopath killed a friend of ours. Then, well... they claimed to have killed Ranma, here. We thought she was dead." His voice broke as he said these last words. "We thought she was dead." He reached out a hand to help Ranma up; Ranma accepted.

Akari chose that moment to walk in to join them, an infant in her arms. Ryouga looked at his two eldest sons. "I know growing up isn't easy. I know you think your old man doesn't understand what it's like. And some things I don't; I still don't know much about computers, for instance. It's just not what I grew up with." He glanced all around him for a moment, at the friends and family he'd made over the years, before turning back to his children. "But I do know this. Your life is all you know. Family, friends, school... when you're growing up, there's not much life yet. So every small crisis seems out of proportion. When you grow up... as you grow up... you'll learn. In time, you'll learn. You'll know what's important and what isn't. So when your old man tells you to calm down and be patient... well, I wasn't calm when I was younger. I wasn't patient. Eventually, I learned when to be calm, and when not to be."

The face of Kappei, Ryouga's oldest, twisted in outrage. "But Dad, if this other rival was actually killing people, I wouldn't want to be calm at all!"

It was only years of stage experience that kept Ranma from reacting to the comment. Ryouga shrugged. "Like I said – what's important, and what's not. When people are in danger, then yeah, it's worth it. But has anyone been in any real danger?" Kappei just looked away in frustration; Ryouga grinned. "You know when it's time to act. A martial artist protects the weak. Let that guide you. If it's not a case like that... just take a deep breath, and it will pass." He angled his head around to look his eldest in the eye. "Okay?"

"Okay..." Kappei said reluctantly.

Ryouga then turned to Matsuo, the younger of the two. "Okay?"

"Okay," Matsuo replied, more confidently.

Ryouga's gaze found Ranma's. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Ranma replied. "I love you, too." She said the words without any romantic meaning to them.

Ryouga nodded, understanding. He latched onto Akari as the family walked to the edge of the dojo. Ranma couldn't help but smile as she watched them walk away. Ryouga had found perspective, and a sense of peace. Who would have imagined that?

"Ranma?"

Kasumi's voice interrupted her thoughts. Ranma looked over at her. "Yes, Kasumi?"

"Could you turn around for a minute and face me?"

Ranma blinked. "Sure."

Kasumi pulled out a penlight. "Ranma, I need to test to make sure you don't have a concussion. Okay?"

"Um... okay," Ranma replied. "Not like I need it, though; I mean, I've been hit far worse than that before."

Kasumi frowned slightly at Ranma's response, and turned on the penlight. "Now I want you to follow the light with your eyes, okay?"

"Okay," Ranma replied automatically.

As Ranma followed the moving light, Kasumi continued. "'Before'..." Ranma could practically hear the quotes, "...Ranma, whatever 'before' was like... with one exception, I would rather not go back to what things were like 'before'. Just because the injuries aren't visible doesn't mean they aren't there." She turned off the light, put it in the pocket of her apron, and put her hands on Ranma's shoulders. "You look all right. That said, I don't think you should spar any more today. Okay?"

Ranma's eyes flashed. "But, Kasumi..."

"Ranma." Kasumi's voice cut through the protest. For a moment, Ranma saw Kasumi as mother, the matriarch of the family and the household. After a minute, she stopped, and bowed her head. "Please, Ranma. It's just... For my peace of mind, please."

Ranma opened her mouth to respond, to find some counter to Kasumi's argument; in the end, all that came out was an exasperated sigh. "Okay, Kasumi. I'm done for the day."

"Thank you, Ranma." She looked over at the edge of the dojo. "As much as I love my family's Art, I wouldn't be able to sleep at night if I put my children through what we went through. For me, that means being careful about things like concussions." She pursed her lips, forming them into a thin line. "I'm sorry."

Ranma followed Kasumi's eyes, to where most of the children were watching. They were talking, joking, enjoying themselves; save for the karate gis and family resemblances, they were blissfully anonymous, like any other gang of children getting together. Even more, it was clear they'd grown up together; the rapport between them was one built over the course of years - and, as far as Ranma could see, there were no arranged marriages, no stolen dowries, no Neko-ken training. They were just kids.

Was she ever just a kid? Was anyone of her generation ever 'just a kid'? Kimiko's death had forced the Tendou daughters to grow up quickly - too quickly, Ranma knew. Ryouga's directional problems had already made his life difficult. Ukyou had been abandoned by her fiancé and forced to live as a boy; Konatsu was already deep in training to be a kunoichi. And Mu Tsu... life for anyone, let alone a male, in the Joketsuzoku village was not an easy one. And herself... she'd gone through the Neko-ken training at age seven. By the time they were the age of Kasumi's twins, childhood was on hold or finished; life had hardened all of them.

She nodded slowly. "Yeah." She didn't feel like saying anything else. She walked to the edge of the dojo, and sat down against the wall.

Movement to her left caught her attention, and she turned to the source. Ukyou was getting up, albeit with some effort; she rose from her sitting position, walked toward Ranma, and eased herself right next to her.

"Don't be too hard on Kasumi," Ukyou whispered, touching her on the arm.

Ranma frowned. "I get the feeling something happened."

Ukyou nodded, a grimace twisting her features. "There was a sort of guy-bonding thing a few years ago. Old Man Tendou took Toufuu, Ryouga, and Konatsu on a training trip for a week or so. Us girls didn't think much about it. Training trips like that happened every so often." She sighed. "What none of them told us was that the reason for the training trip was so that Ryouga could train Tendou and Toufuu in the Breaking Point technique."

"Not Konatsu?" Ranma asked.

"My husband's a kunoichi. The Breaking Point technique is about as far from Konatsu's style as you can get. Was a good thing, too. Having someone there who wasn't concussed who had a sense of direction... well." She looked over at Kasumi, absently rubbing her belly as she did so. "They learned the Breaking Point, all right. Both of them are about as rock-hard as Ryouga nowadays." She snorted derisively. "Too bad it cost them both a stint in the hospital. Concussions, so bad that Tendou ended up in a coma; even today, he still has memory problems."

Ranma blinked. Suddenly, the reactions of the Tendous the previous evening made sense. "... damn."

"You said it," Ukyou replied. "Afterwards, well... Kasumi pretty much laid down the law. If it couldn't be taught with a degree of safety, it was out." She let out a deep exhale. "Can't really blame her for that."

"Yeah," Ranma's voice sounded hollow – too hollow for her liking, too depressing for her liking. She resorted to a favorite crutch – acting – and pulled out Jekyll for a moment to break up the mood. "So. It would appear that I am grounded. Now what?"

"Well... that makes both of us," Ukyou groused. She looked up at the ceiling. "I am so ready to have this kid. Love being a mommy, make no mistake... but pregnancy is no fun." She glanced to her side. "Hey, Nabiki."

"Hey, Ukyou. So is this where the noncombatants hang out?" Nabiki asked, earning glares from both Ukyou and Ranma. She took a seat next to Ranma. "Don't feel too bad. It's just Kasumi being Kasumi."

"I know." Ranma's fingers drummed against her thighs, as though a piano was beneath her fingertips. "Still feel like I need to do something. Too much energy. Geared up for a fight... now I can't fight."

Nabiki tilted her head to one side. "How does a walk around the old neighborhood sound?" She looked over at Ukyou and opened her mouth, when Ukyou held up a hand.

"Don't ask it, sugar," Ukyou replied. "You know I can walk just fine."

Nabiki nodded sagely. "I'll take that as a yes." She glanced back at the center of the dojo, where two children were preparing to fight. "Oooh, Akane's going up against Kappei! This should be fun..."

Ranma fidgeted, and turned her eyes toward the center of the dojo to watch the fight. Watching wasn't as entertaining as being in the fight herself, but it would at least occupy her until she could get outside.

* * *

Nabiki had wanted to go on the walk with Ranma.

She just really didn't want to come here.

The tour of Nerima had been straightforward enough. A visit to Ucchan's, where Ukyou had whipped up okonomiyaki for the crowd. A trip to the Nekohanten; Mu Tsu had offered, but everyone was full from Ucchan's, and decided on tea instead. The market that Kasumi went to every day to get food. A park she'd played at as a child, where Ranma and Akane had shared cheeseburgers in an early tender moment.

Still, she supposed the last place was inevitable. Her feet felt heavy as she trudged up the final steps; she pushed open the door to the roof, and stood atop the building.

She held an office on the thirtieth story in the Marunouchi district of Tokyo, but the fourth-story view from atop Furinkan High School still took her breath away. She walked to the edge, to the fence that protected students from falling off, and rested her forehead against the chain-link. Dimly, she heard the others behind her file onto the roof - her family, what family she had left, what family she and her sisters had made.

Ranma stood next to her, seeming to take in a world's worth of air in one breath. She exhaled and stood next to Nabiki, enjoying the view of Nerima it offered. "God, I missed this place. Sad as it sounds, but I missed this place. I spent a lot of lunches and afternoons here." She looked up in thought for a moment. "Usually to hide from, well... take your pick. Fiancées, fiancées' cooking, rivals, challengers, nutcase principals, nutcase principal's children, ki-vampire teachers..." She blinked as a thought crossed her mind. "Is Hinako-sensei still teaching here?"

Nabiki gave a knowing grin as she turned to face Ranma. "Hinako is currently in grad school in Maihama at the moment, finishing up her doctoral thesis. The title of her thesis in progress, in case you are wondering: 'The unimaginable: overcoming the effects of violence and tragedy to achieve learning outcomes for secondary education'."

Ranma gave a half-lidded stare. "Why am I not surprised..."

Nabiki shrugged. "Rumors are that she'll be the next principal here once Yamaguchi-sensei retires. And, while it's a lot less crazy here than it used to be, Furinkan is still the job almost no teacher wants." She looked over at her father and at Toufuu; they could explain far better than she could. "Also... um..."

"Hinako-chan is doing well," Soun interrupted, a wistful smile on his face. His eyes clouded. "The reason she's staying away... and yes, she is staying away... she wants to wait until she feels she is ready." He took a deep breath. "Her child body is starting to catch up to her adult body, thanks to Toufuu's work with the old master's notes; she says she'll be ready to defend her thesis next year, which I would call a remarkable coincidence."

Ranma blinked at Toufuu in surprise. "You fixed her ki pathways." Toufuu nodded in reply. "And she'll be an adult full-time at about that time?"

Toufuu shrugged. "Well, enough of an adult, anyway."

Ranma fixed a mischievous smile in Soun's direction. Nabiki realized just how much she'd missed that smile; it had largely gone after her curse was locked and, if anything, her acclimation to womanhood had made it even less common. "Am I going to be getting a wedding invitation in a year or so?"

Soun nodded thoughtfully. "Quite possible." The edges of his mouth twitched; the tone in his voice indicated that he would not be saying any more.

"Good." Ranma gave Soun a thumbs-up sign, indicating she understood. "It's nice to see that she makes you happy."

Nabiki looked out at the neighborhood surrounding Furinkan - her world once, still her home to an extent. Her eyes naturally drifted toward familiar landscapes and locations. "I haven't been up here since I graduated," she said, her voice hollow.

"Nabiki?" Ranma frowned; Nabiki bowed her head. Clearly she'd said more than she intended. She took a deep breath to gather her thoughts.

"That last year... after everything that had happened... I got to the graduation ceremony. By that point, I considered it a miracle I was even alive. And... it hurt. It hurt in ways I hadn't even considered. The problem with graduation ceremonies... anyone who dies, they memorialize. They memorialized the Principal. They memorialized Kunou." Her voice turned to a whisper. "They memorialized my baby sister." She turned to Ranma. "They memorialized you." Her teeth clenched for a moment. "Thank God the bitch went to St. Hebereke's; I think there would have been violence if they tried to 'memorialize' her." She swallowed hard, and looked out to the horizon. "And then, after the ceremony... I wandered up here. Everyone else was with their family... no one else was up here."

She felt an arm wrap around her shoulder; Ranma stood next to her. Her hands raised up in front of her, as though she wondered why they were empty. "I stood up here, my diploma in hand, the offer to Toudai in hand... and I was free. I was free." Tears started running down her cheeks at the memory. "And... and I couldn't stop crying. I was free, I'd gotten out. But Akane... and you... and..." She buried her head in Ranma's shoulder. "I... I was free. And I hated myself for finding a way out." She found herself sinking deeper into Ranma's embrace.

She felt Ranma's hand touch the back of her head as she cried, but no words. Nabiki found herself appreciating the silence, with Ranma's heartbeat the only voice reaching her ears.

She understood, now, why Akane had loved Ranma so much. Ranma was. Ranma was human, make no mistake, but there was something pure, something elemental about her. Ranma was the comfort of a ray of sunlight and the crackle of a bonfire, the laugh of a gentle breeze and the roar of a typhoon, the soothing warmth of a hot spring and the indomitable force of a tsunami. One did not negotiate with the elements; the elements had plenty to offer, and it was up to her to accept the gifts at hand.

A foolish person would have attempted to comfort her with empty words. Ranma was simply there, her embrace warm like sunshine, and that for her was enough.

* * *

Author's Notes:

One more chapter to go. At the moment, the last chapter is the smallest of the chapters; I may add a scene if I feel like it, or maybe an omake or two. I cut the work into chapters based not so much on length as on logic; Part 1 is pre-visit, part 2 is day 1 of the visit, part 3 is the beginning of day 2, and Ranma re-meeting old friends. Part 4... well. Peter Beagle once wrote, "There are no happy endings, for nothing ever ends". That's what the end here feels like: so many possibilities beyond it. Maybe I should start writing little scenes as omake...

nightelf

September 10, 2018


	4. That Ends This Strange Eventful History

All The World's A Stage

By nightelf

A work of fanfiction based on Takahashi Rumiko's Manga series, Ranma 1/2

Saotome Ranma, Saotome Genma, Saotome Nodoka, Tendou Akane, Tendou Soun, Tendou Kasumi, Tendou Nabiki, Kuonji Ukyou, Kenzan Konatsu, Hibiki Ryouga, P-chan, Unryuu Akari, Shan Pu, Mu Tsu, Kunou Tatewaki, Kunou Kodachi, Ono Toufuu, and Ninomiya Hinako are copyright 1987, 2018 by Takahashi Rumiko. Tenou Haruka and Kaiou Michiru are copyright 1991, 2018 by Takeuchi Naoko. All other characters are copyright 2018 nightelf. All rights reserved.

"Show Me" lyrics copyright 2018 nightelf. All rights reserved.

Publishing rights:

Japan: Shogakukan Inc. Tokyo

Hong Kong: Jademan (Holdings) Ltd.

North America: Viz Inc.

Chapter Four of Four: That Ends This Strange Eventful History

* * *

"So. What happened between you and Kodachi?"

Ranma looked over at Ryouga as everyone sat in the dojo, sharing drinks, sharing company, swapping stories, swapping lives. She'd been expecting the question since she'd arrived, but actually answering the question, actually telling the story of what happened... in that moment, as she faced the people she called family, she suddenly felt very old. She took a deep breath to steady herself.

"Well… Ukyou. Do you remember that day when Kodachi came to Furinkan and threatened me because I was 'hiding her Ranma-sama'?"

"You mean the day before you disappeared, leaving all the rest of us devastated?" Ukyou crossed her arms in front of her.

"Yeah. That." Ranma rubbed the back of her head nervously. "Well… let's face it. By that point, we all knew Kodachi was true to her word. She'd literally gotten away with murder once - and it was pretty clear she was going to try again. So… I… decided to let her think she'd succeeded."

Her voice dropped to a monotone, the cold, analytical warrior within her taking control. "I knew she'd attack. We all saw how the threats escalated with… with Akane. Moreover, I knew how she'd attack; she'd try to strangle me with her ribbon. The bruising on Akane's neck at the morgue…". For a moment, her own throat betrayed her; her lips moved, but no sound came out. She struggled to find the strength to speak. "I knew it was coming, and I knew how it was coming. I borrowed one of Nabiki's turtleneck sweaters, put a brace in the folds to protect my neck, and went out for a walk."

Ranma looked down at the teacup in her hands and shivered. "Kodachi was waiting, of course. She waited for me to be alone, waited for an opportunity, then attacked. I faked my own death, let her think she'd succeeded; fortunately, she was more concerned about not being at the scene of the crime than in checking to see if she'd finished the job." She stared out into the void, remembering the feeling of pushing herself up from the snow and concrete, the realization of what she'd done, what she'd become at that moment. "So… for a little while, I was a dead person; I was a ghost. It's amazing what the dead can get away with…"

"And the fire?" Ukyou drawled.

Ranma placidly looked back at Ukyou. "Kodachi always was careless with her chemicals. Do you know how much ammonium nitrate fertilizer and diesel fuel she had stored in her greenhouse? Why, one stray match in the wrong place, or even a ki-blast, could blow the entire place sky-high!" Her smile turned cold. "Also, that two police officers happened to suffer debilitating illnesses afterwards, such as muscle weakness and a significant aversion to hot water, is entirely coincidental."

Toufuu raised an eyebrow at that. "So you're the one who got Nakamura and Takeshi! They went to my office for treatment… there wasn't anything I could do for them. I pointed them to Hap-"

"Ahem." Soun coughed nervously.

Toufuu blushed. "Ah, yes. I pointed them to the old master, but he wouldn't lift a finger for them. After all… those two were viewed as complicit in the destruction of his school of martial arts." He shrugged. "The Nerima precinct wasn't happy with us after that, but we weren't exactly happy with them, either. I think they wanted to arrest the lot of us - they certainly questioned us enough - but none of us had done anything, and a clash between the local police and a school of martial arts would have gone badly for everyone around."

Soun nodded sagely. "Commander Yamada met with me a year or two later, after those two had been cashiered out. I think we both realized we needed to heal the rift; it was too easy for things to spiral out of control, and his officers needed martial arts training anyway. It was not a pleasant meeting - certainly a tense one - but we got things squared away." He took a sip of his beer, then stared into its contents. "But for a couple of years, we had nothing to do with each other."

A long silence dragged on after Soun's words. Ranma looked around, watching dozens of pairs of eyes staring intently at her. Clearly, they expected her to continue the tale. "After that… well. After all of that… I was, quite literally, lost. I was talking about going on a long training trip, that I'd probably leave within a few weeks. Had I left early - even a few days earlier than what I'd planned - well… I probably wouldn't be alive today."

Everyone froze at that last statement. "What do you mean?" Ukyou asked.

Ranma pursed her lips. Performance instincts came to the fore, and she focused her eyes on the "ro" in the iroha sign on the dojo wall. If she focused on that spot, she could look like she was keeping her head high, without looking at any of the others. "I'd just lost my life. In a very real sense, I'd literally lost my life. I couldn't come back to Nerima. I'd lost my fiancee to murder; I'd had to fake my own death to stay alive… I even had to give up my name." The words had come out with more force than she'd intended; she licked her lips nervously, trying to force back her emotions. "Nothing was left – nothing worth staying for, anyway. If I went away on a long training trip… what are the chances I don't come back?"

No one responded; the room was stilled to silence. Ranma took a deep breath and sat back against the wall.

"Mom knew me, probably too well. I needed to stay busy; I needed a new challenge. If I didn't have that, what happened would eat me inside, eat me alive. So… she basically pushed me into applying for the 'zuka school." She balled a hand into a fist, flexing it as she did so, determination written on her face. "I'm the best; always have been. Martial arts, acting, singing, dance... if I'm going to do it, I'm going to beat you at it."

The adults in the room all chuckled and tittered, an undercurrent of relief in their laugh. "Good to know some things haven't changed, Saotome," Mu Tsu spoke up, a twinkle in his eyes.

Ranma matched Mu Tsu's grin. "Can you think of a better way to live your life?" Her smile fell; her voice turned strangely quiet. "It's easy to bury yourself in performance at the Revue. It's designed to cut us off from the rest of the world. Hours upon hours of practice, for everything from instrumental performance to dance to acting - and only the best go on." She rubbed her fingers against her teacup. "My pride wouldn't let me be anything else. You'd be amazed at how much the work ethic from hell can make up for. I wanted it - needed it, really - and got a lot of attention because of it. Didn't hurt that performance was a hell of a lot cheaper than therapy."

She took a sip of her tea, then continued. "Everyone starts at the bottom. Once I was out of school, I spent the first few years in the chorus, steadily working my way up to larger and larger roles. Took me about six years before I got my first lead. Once that happened, well... I didn't look back."

"Have you thought about going professional?" Li asked. "I mean, I've seen several performers go from the Revue to their own recording or acting careers..."

Ranma paused at that. She smiled grimly as she looked back at Li. "What do you think I'm thinking about right now?" She took a deep breath. "I've gotten a couple of offers. It's not unusual for a Takarazuka lead to get a few. Most are garbage; a few are worse than garbage. There's one or two that have been tempting, though a part of me wants to wait for others."

Ukyou blinked. "Wait for others?"

"When you go to school and work every day for over a decade with the best musicians in the country, you'd be amazed what you can do when you just get together and play." Ranma looked outward, imagining the musicians around her, no more choreography, no more dictation, no more directors, just a group of women playing together for the sheer joy of it. "Being in a band - a real rock band, not some choreographed idol-singer crap... that sounds like fun to me."

"Ran-chan as a rock star. You know, that fits." Ukyou gave Nabiki a nudge. "So. Wanna be Ran-chan's groupie?"

Nabiki's jaw dropped; Ranma found herself blushing at the thought. The picture in Ranma's mind, well… she wasn't going to voice it out loud. Nabiki, wearing the sort of mini-skirt that brought new heights to the word 'mini', fingers teasing across Ranma's chest as Ranma played the opening riffs to "Voodoo Chile", dressed in boots, leather pants, and a poet shirt like a rock god. Their blushes increased as they stared at each other, each contemplating just what Ukyou meant with the statement, each no doubt with their own fantasies playing out in their heads.

Nabiki, thankfully, was the first to recover. "Yeah, well... um... well. What kind of music do you prefer, Ranma?"

Ranma breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for Nabiki's interruption. "Well, a good musician is like a good practitioner of the Musebetsu Kaketou. You take what best fits you from just about any style you find. I find a blues-heavy rock tends to end up as my 'default' style, though I end up with a little bit of everything - bits from jazz, from classical, from Japanese traditional music... because of my line of work, I've listened to just about everything. About the only insistence... the vocals have to be good. For instance, I may like Bob Dylan's music, but I can't listen to him perform it, because he's so off key that it physically hurts me to listen."

She growled as one other frustration rose to the surface. "One of the other problems with most of the offers I've been getting. They basically want me to be an adult idol singer. Here's your song, here's your outfit, here's your dance routine, now go out there and act cute." She looked down into her teacup. "I've seen a couple of former colleagues go that route. And, well... that's not healthy. There's something lost in that."

"So...when are you planning to leave?" Ryouga asked.

Ranma looked over at Ryouga, then glanced at Nabiki. Nabiki still had a blush on her features; as their eyes met, Ranma found her own blush returning.

"Um… Soon." She shook her head. "Soon."

* * *

Nabiki knew a setup when she saw it. Unfortunately, this was one she couldn't get out of.

After the get-together in the dojo, Kasumi had mentioned that they likely didn't have enough food for the next day's meals, and asked her if she would go to the local grocery store, as the market was already closed. Kasumi then asked Nodoka to accompany her. At that point, Nabiki's suspicions were raised, but not to critical levels.

The trip to the grocery store was almost banal. They'd selected their ingredients at a fairly leisurely pace, getting a laundry-list of materials for the next day's cooking - mushrooms, daikon, spinach, tomatoes, scallions, tuna, beef, cabbage, and buckwheat noodles. While they'd shopped, they'd also talked; Nodoka had asked her about her life in downtown Tokyo working for the Sakaki Group, while Nabiki had asked about Takarazuka, and the ins and outs of Ranma's life. It was mildly suspicious, but nothing particularly alarming.

It was when Nodoka had asked if Nabiki was interested in takoyaki and drinks that Nabiki knew she was being set up.

The pair slipped into the takoyaki stand; Nabiki blinked at the incongruity of it all. Somehow, she never thought she'd be sharing drinks with "Auntie Nodoka". They laid their grocery bags next to their seats, and sat down.

"A set of takoyaki balls with okonomiyaki sauce on top, and two bottles of sake, please," Nodoka said as she slipped into the stand.

Nabiki stared at Nodoka as if she'd grown a second head.

Nodoka simply raised an eyebrow. "What, did you think I was always some proper Japanese housewife? I used to work in the Revue; learning where to eat and drink late at night is a necessity in that line of work. In fact, I first met Soun and Genma at a food stand much like this one; he and your father were trying to scam free food, just to survive. Back then they were both being run ragged by the old lech; both of them were so skinny from being on the road." She smiled wistfully. "That's the thing about love. You never know where it will start." Her smile faltered. "Never know where it will end, either."

Nabiki frowned. "Daddy doesn't like to talk about those days very much."

"With good reason," Nodoka replied. "Being a martial artist... it leaves scars on a person. They're expected to 'defend the weak'... to 'give their lives for the Art'... No one asks them when they're weak, when they need help." The bartender set the bottles of sake down in front of them; Nodoka opened hers, and poured some into a dish. "Kimiko was stronger than I was. She kept your father grounded, helped him heal." She took a sip of her sake. "Me... I wasn't prepared for Genma's scars. He was so terrified of starving that he ate to excess. He was so obsessed with producing a martial artist better than his own master that..." She looked at the rest of the sake in the dish and downed it in one gulp, grimacing at the assault on her taste buds and stomach.

"Which brings me to why I brought you here." She poured another sample of sake into her dish. "What are your intentions toward my daughter?"

Nabiki stopped cold. She raised a shaking hand to her own bottle of sake, and poured herself a drink. "I... I don't know."

Nodoka's face could have been carved from stone. "Neither did Akane - not until too much damage had been done." Her anger faltered. "Unfortunately, neither did my daughter."

Nabiki took a sip of her own drink, the shake of her hand increasing. Some topics would quickly anger her; her late sister's less appealing traits were among them. "What are you trying to tell me, Auntie?"

The bartender placed the takoyaki balls in between them. Nodoka stabbed a takoyaki ball with a skewer, and stared at it morosely. "My child is scarred, Nabiki - worse than my husband was. I couldn't help Genma with his scars, and I can't help Ranma with hers, either." She gently blew on a takoyaki ball before taking a bite.

Nabiki gave Nodoka a flat stare. "And you think I can."

Nodoka swallowed her bite, and looked back at Nabiki. "Where do you plan to be in ten years?"

"This isn't a job interview, Auntie," Nabiki growled.

"Answer the question, please," Nodoka replied testily.

Nabiki sat back for a moment and pondered Nodoka's question. She liked working at the Sakaki firm. It used all the best parts of her in a way that fulfilled her, that let her sleep at night with a clear conscience without the guilt and the nightmares Nerima had provided. That said, it was also a lonely life. She would talk with wo after woman, whether they were a housewife or office lady, hear their hopes and dreams, and help plan their lives.

What were her hopes and dreams? What was the plan for her life? Did she want to go back to her apartment, alone, every day for the rest of her life?

Nodoka clearly took her lack of answer as an answer in and of itself. "Ranma is scarred. For ten years, the only person she had was her father; any friends she made on the road, like Ukyou or Ryouga, quickly disappeared. Some of the things my husband put her through should have had him locked up; everything from running from wolves to being thrown into a pit of cats. She was so emotionally stunted by the time she got to your family's dojo that she didn't know where to begin living. As perverse as it sounds, the curse - and the curse being locked - may have been the best thing to happen to my daughter. It gave her the chance to heal - and alerted Akane to the need for healing. And then, just as she's starting to learn how to be a human being..." Nodoka shook her head in disgust. "My point is this. If you want something more... you have to be the one to go get it. My daughter is too scarred, too afraid to act on her own. Your sister figured that out, before the end." She took another sip of her sake. "Don't let it be too late for you as well." She visibly deflated, and skewered another takoyaki ball. "Just... think about what I said. Okay?"

Nabiki took a look at the dish of sake in her hand. "I can see why you ordered sake for both of us." She poured more into her dish, then drained its contents, wincing as the alcohol went down. "I'll think about it, Auntie. No promises, though."

Nodoka nodded. "That's all I ask." She looked over at her own bottle. She poured more sake into her dish, and raised it in Nabiki's direction. "To scars."

Nabiki refilled her dish of sake; she could appreciate Nodoka's toast. Though she wasn't a martial artist, she had her own scars to work through. "To scars." She raised her own dish in toast, and took a careful sip.

She just hoped those scars wouldn't choose that night to bleed.

* * *

"Ranma?"

Ranma looked up from her bedtime preparations. The dojo was more than full; curtains were drawn up to give people at least a semblance of privacy. Next to her, she could hear Ryouga and Akari gently talking as they wound down the day. "Yeah, Kasumi?"

"I..." Kasumi grimaced as she hefted a backpack in her arms. "When you disappeared, you left a few things behind. I was wondering... do you want them back?"

Ranma took a deep breath. So much of her life was spent with that backpack. She could see a dozen rips and tears, carefully sewn and patched up for repair; her mind flashed back to each of those moments, those momentary catastrophes. For much of her childhood and adolescence, the backpack - and what was inside - was everything she called her own. "... wow." She blinked. "How much did I leave behind?"

Kasumi shrugged. "Not much, to be honest. Your backpack, a few clothes, some mementos..."

Ranma fought back her tears as she took the backpack from Kasumi's hands. She tried to ignore just how much heavier it felt from those early days. "Okay. Um... thanks."

She untied the drawstring that closed the backpack, and opened it up to see what was inside. Her breath caught in her throat at the first thing there: a red Chinese-style shirt. She'd practically lived in the shirt during her time in Nerima. "... oh, my." She pulled the shirt over her shoulders and fastened the frogs in front; wearing the shirt felt like a hug from an old friend. "Wow."

Kasumi wiped a few tears from her eyes. "Red always suited you."

"Yeah," Ranma replied, fighting back her own tears. A few other articles of clothing were stored in the backpack - a few more shirts, some pants that actually fit. After she'd been locked, the Tendou girls had pointed out the usefulness of wearing clothing that fit. Ranma eventually conformed to that ideal, with only the Chinese shirts remaining of her male clothing.

Her mouth twitched. Ironically, she owned more male clothing now than she ever did before or during her 'cursed' days. She pulled out a pair of comfortable pants and slipped them over her sleep boxers, twirled around, and presented herself in front of Kasumi.

"How do I look?"

Kasumi couldn't help but giggle. "Like a teenaged girl trying on her older brother's clothes?"

Ranma chortled; Kasumi had used those same words to argue for female clothing after she'd been locked. She put her hands on her hips and grinned in response. "Nowadays, saying I look like a teenaged girl - a teenaged anything, for that matter - is a high compliment!"

Kasumi put her face in her hand, even as she fought her own giggles. "Oh, Ranma, Ranma, Ranma..."

Ranma continued to reach into her backpack, pulling out more mementos - a canteen, a blanket, a pocket knife. She continued to pull out other material, until she stopped at a canary-yellow scarf in her hands.

"Oh, my god..." Ranma's jaw dropped at the sight. The haphazard workmanship, the uneven stitching of her initials... it was all there.

Kasumi's eyes widened. "Is that Akane's...?"

"Yeah," Ranma replied, her voice tight. She flopped down on her futon, her legs suddenly feeling very weak. She looked up at Kasumi; the two stared at each other for a moment, unable to find speech.

"I remember when she tried to knit that scarf," Kasumi said gently. "She'd tried to put everything into making that scarf, knitting for several weeks to get it done before Christmas. That was the way she did everything - with enthusiasm and love, but not with a lot of patience."

"Yeah," Ranma whispered. She carefully wrapped the scarf around her neck. "I didn't bring it with me that day because, well... I didn't want it damaged." She rubbed her neck through the scarf. "I knew whatever I was wearing that day would be damaged by Kodachi's ribbon."

"Still... it suits you," Kasumi replied, a wan smile on her face. An uncomfortable silence descended on the pair; Ranma idly fingered the edges of the scarf.

After a minute, a strange look appeared in Kasumi's eyes. "You know, we have a mirror downstairs in the clinic. Do you want to see how it looks on you?"

Ranma blinked. There was something off about Kasumi's demeanor, which most likely meant she was up to something. "Um... sure." She heard amused whispering coming from Ryouga and Akari, but couldn't quite understand what they were saying. She let Kasumi pull her to her feet and lead her down to the first floor.

Ranma frowned. "Where's Mom and Nabiki?" she asked.

Kasumi waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, I needed some food for tomorrow, so I asked them to go down to the store to pick some up." She moved Ranma over to a full-length mirror.

"So. What do you think?"

Ranma looked at herself in the mirror. She wasn't sure what to make of the person that stared back. It was such a mix of her life that she barely knew where to begin processing it all. Her brutally-short hair was still coiffed in the Takarazuka style; it was simpler for her to just go with the look, rather than try to change it up on her off days. Her makeup had been washed off, giving her a face that was closer to the 'original' female Ranma, yet highlighted the changes she'd gone through. Put simply, it wasn't a sixteen-year-old street urchin that stared out from the mirror; she was a full-grown and mature woman on the wrong side of thirty, with the beginnings of wrinkles that would only increase with time. Still, there was hope; there was time. She was still trim, and fit, and that could be seen through her outfit. Martial arts and stage performance demanded peak physical condition, and she'd maintained much of her strength over the years.

That said, the outfit she wore indicated just how much time had passed. It had been over a decade since she'd worn the shirt she had on. And the scarf...

Behind her, Kasumi put her hands on Ranma's shoulders. "What do you think?"

"I..." For once, Ranma didn't know what to think. Inside her was still that sixteen-year-old, still that force of nature, with an unstoppable confidence that had defeated gods. Unfortunately, the thirty-year-old woman knew better. She fingered the edges of the scarf she wore.

Kasumi chose that moment to wrap her arms around Ranma from behind, a move born of pain and family. Ranma startled at the intrusion.

Eventually, Kasumi raised her eyes, boring her gaze into Ranma's reflection. Ranma gulped; Kasumi only stared her down like that when she wanted to be sure that Ranma would listen.

"Ranma, I would never rush you into anything you don't want to do." Kasumi reached out, and grabbed the hand fidgeting with the scarf. "But, sometimes, time does run out." Her grip tightened. "Just... think about it, okay?"

Ranma stood, transfixed. She knew exactly what Kasumi was asking of her. Her other hand reached up to grasp Kasumi's.

"I... I..." Ranma whispered. "I don't know, Kasumi. I really don't." She frowned. "Wha-"

"Yes, you do," Kasumi interrupted. "You do know. You know because you're scared again. You know because you don't want these regrets again." She released her embrace on Ranma, putting her hands back on Ranma's shoulders. "Sometimes, time does run out, Ranma. Please... don't let time run out. Not with this."

Ranma's heartbeat thudded hard in her chest, roaring in her ears. It took effort to find the words. "I... I'll think about it," she finally replied.

Kasumi nodded in reply. "That's all I ask."

Ranma looked down at herself - at the shirt and pants she wore, at her house slippers. She realized she needed to get her shoes.

"Kasumi?"

"Yes?"

Ranma frowned. "I'm going out for a bit. It may be a couple of hours before I get back."

* * *

"Nabiki!"

Nabiki's eyes popped open at Ranma's hiss. She tried to fight off the alcohol still in her system from her talk with Nodoka. "R... Ranma?"

The room was completely dark, but the silhouette was all Ranma. More to the point, it was classic Ranma, albeit with minor modifications; she could see the oversized sleeves of the Chinese shirt she wore. "Um… could you come with me? There's something I want to show you."

Nabiki blinked for a moment at the words. On the one hand, it was late at night; on the other hand, it was Ranma. And after what Nodoka had said... "Sure," she said blearily. "Let me get dressed first." She threw on some utilitarian clothing - a pullover top and jeans - and made her way out.

As Ranma led Nabiki through the streets of Nerima, her eyes widened. Ranma's outfit could have been taken - and likely was taken - from her seventeen-year-old self; the red of her silk shirt blazed in the lamplight, while a haphazardly-knitted scarf wrapped around her neck. Their footsteps echoed on the pavement as they walked; the streets were strangely quiet, as it was well after midnight, and the trains had already shut down. The streetlights cast an eerie glow with their movements, as ghosts and shadows danced around the edges of her vision.

Nabiki shivered at her surroundings. "So where are we going?"

Ranma stared back at her, her face serious. "The best acting job of my life." She led Nabiki through the streets of Nerima, finally stopping in front of a convenience store. Her shoulders drooped at the sight in front of her.

"Ranma?"

Ranma didn't answer immediately. Instead, she crouched in front of the store, her hand resting on the front glass.

"It was snowing… that day. The day I died."

Nabiki's jaw dropped.

Ranma continued. "I was wearing your sweater, as well as a skirt and some warm tights… but I still remember feeling cold. I never liked the cold - and being like this, I was always more susceptible to it." She paused for a moment. "It wasn't comfortable, but it did help in two important respects. First, I could wear a brace under the turtleneck without anyone noticing." Ranma put a hand to her scarf. Nabiki wrapped her arms around herself, shivering. "And second… I could sense Kodachi much more easily in the cold."

She took a deep breath, and continued. "At the time, this place was a vacant lot - the only one on this street. She'd been tracking me for a couple of streets, keeping to the rooftops; I hadn't really offered her an opportunity to attack. I was leading her here. Leading her to this location. Once I passed the opening in the fence… I knew she'd attack."

Ranma's eyes unfocused, clearly seeing something else. "That brace around my neck, underneath the turtleneck of the sweater… it's probably the one thing that kept me alive." She took a few steps along the front of the convenience store, retracing a path only she could see, before finally stopping at a point. "There was a gap in the fence here, a place for someone to enter the lot if they needed to."

Her hand cupped around her neck, through the scarf. "It was here where Kodachi's ribbon caught me."

Nabiki gulped; her own hand reached up toward her neck. Ranma turned around, walking toward the end of the store to the alley between it and the next building, a florist's shop. "Kodachi didn't believe in fighting fair, and this was no exception. She caught me around the neck - I'm lucky she didn't snap my neck right there - and threw me into that wall." Ranma walked into the alley, feeling around the concrete before finding a damaged area. "Right here." She gulped. "I then fell to the ground here."

Nabiki felt a chill go down her spine. There had been a brain contusion in Akane's autopsy report; to know why left her visibly shaken.

Ranma licked her lips. "Kodachi was always fast. I was dazed for a moment by the impact, and she took advantage. In a split second, she'd wrapped her ribbon several times around my neck. She then grabbed the other end and pulled, pushing her knee against my back."

Nabiki stood there, transfixed, horrified.

Tears began to fall down Ranma's face. "I… if you want to know the best acting job of my life, it was here. Even with the brace, I could barely breathe; the sounds I made weren't faked, weren't some fabrication. I grabbed frantically at the ribbons around my neck; it was enough to get them in a better position so I could breathe a little easier, but to Kodachi it must have been a desperation move. I started flailing behind me, trying to grab the ribbons, trying anything to breathe, trying anything to get out of it." Her mouth moved up and down for a moment, grasping for words. "I… I stuck my tongue out, trying to taste air, seemingly desperate for any touch of oxygen; my eyes bulged out of their sockets from the pressure." She put her hands to her eyes. "I even burst blood vessels in my eyes from what happened."

At that moment, Ranma seemed to visibly shrink within herself. "And, then, after a minute or two… I had to feel all life leave me. I let everything go. This was Soul of Ice, but to a whole new level. The only things I kept tight control of were my core and my diaphragm, getting just enough air in to keep me alive, without making it look like I was still alive. Everything else had to go; everything else went completely limp. It was a last prayer, a hope that she'd think me gone."

Ranma let out a deep breath; Nabiki found herself following suit. "I was lucky, in a way. Kodachi got away with one murder, but any witnesses… well, she couldn't get away with two if there were witnesses. There wasn't enough money for that. So, she unwrapped her ribbon from my neck, and fled the scene. I felt her ki as she left. Even then, I didn't get up for several minutes. I… I didn't want to move. All I wanted to do was breathe. I breathed into the snow I'd fallen into, hiding my breath - hiding my life."

She looked down at the concrete, at her final resting place. "I don't know how long it was. A few minutes? It felt like years. Just lying there. Part of me wanted to stay there forever. Maybe I'd see Akane again. Also… I was so tired of fighting." She gave a brittle smile. "But, well… Saotome Ranma doesn't lose."

For the first time in minutes, Nabiki smiled with her. "So you prepared your revenge."

"Damn straight," Ranma replied, an intensity to her gaze. "I'd put a disguise in my school bag when I left; it was time to use it. The pigtail went away; I cut my hair boyishly short along the sides and back. A dye job turned my hair blue. Some ripped jeans and a t-shirt I'd borrowed from Akane's closet, some choice jewelry, a fake nose ring, and I would look so far from Saotome Ranma that no one would give me a second look." A dark, bleak look shadowed her face. "I was mad at the world. The punk look fit my mood. And those burst blood vessels… there's nothing quite like eyes red with blood. I looked like a punk demon from hell - and that's exactly how I felt. Because I was going to drag Kodachi to hell, even if I had to follow her."

She braced herself against one wall. "I've always known how to survive on my own. Sleeping under bridges, in culverts, even dumpsters… it just added to the disguise. I bided my time, observing Kodachi… finding a weakness."

"And you found the ammonium nitrate," Nabiki said.

Ranma raised an eyebrow, a sly grin appearing on her features; it only added to the macabre feeling in the alley. "You do realize what you get when you combine ammonium nitrate with a little bit of diesel fuel, right?"

Nabiki frowned. "Sorry; I tried to avoid taking chemistry."

Ranma's grin became manic, almost demonic. "Something I learned from some Army guys in Okinawa. Some nasty stuff called ANFO."

Nabiki's eyes widened.

"I knew her habits. I knew when she'd be home; I knew when she'd go to her laboratory. Time things just right, and…" she raised her hands in the air in a shrug. "Was lucky to get out of that one, too; when ANFO goes, it _goes_. I hit the ANFO from as far a distance as I could, I took refuge behind a table to escape the blast, and I was still lucky to make it out of there."

Any happiness in Ranma's face, maniacal or otherwise, faded away. "And then… after it was all done… after I knew Kodachi was gone… with the explosion still ringing in my ears… I went out for ice cream. One last time. To say goodbye." She swallowed. "It was empty. Tasted like ashes. An hour later, a girl named Ran was on a train for Osaka. And Saotome Ranma was gone."

Ranma took Nabiki in her arms, and slowly started to guide her away from the alley. "I didn't go to the Revue right away. I was actually preparing for a training trip. Then, one day, Mom tells me to dress up nice and to come with her. I didn't even know what she was doing, where she was taking me; I ended up auditioning cold for the school. By the time I figured out what was going on, well… I have too much pride to lose." She smiled wistfully. "Always did. You think I'd ever finish in second place - even in something like an audition?"

Nabiki snorted.

"The 'zuka school helped a great deal. Kept me busy. Let me vent in all the right ways. Kept me fighting, kept me competing - like I said, I have too much pride to lose." She shrugged. "Learned some new skills there, too – singing, dance, guitar, piano…"

"Piano?" Nabiki looked at Ranma's hands. "Well, you've always been good with your hands…" She blushed as she realized the implications of the statement.

Fortunately, Ranma didn't notice. "Hey, it's required study at the School." She looked up to the stars. "Also… well… life was normal as well as busy. I was just one of the girls there, and no one knew me from anyone. And… well… the stage is a great place to both hide the pain, and get rid of it." She gave a ladylike snort. "They always said I was good at the dramatic scenes, the tragedies. I didn't mark so highly on comedy, but drama… that I had in spades."

A strange emptiness filled the air in that moment, as they strolled back toward the Tendou home. For a moment, an irrational fear filled Nabiki. She'd lost Ranma years ago, to tragedies that nearly engulfed her. And, in a day or two, she would be back in her own world, acting as financial advisor, away from anything and everything to do with Ranma.

She couldn't lose Ranma again. Moreover, she knew Ranma. She knew all of the parts that Ranma left on the stage - and knew what this Ranma would do, and would not.

Nodoka's warning echoed in her mind. She was the one who had to act. In a sense, she had to be the man in the relationship.

If it meant having Ranma in her life, she could do that. "So what now?" she asked, her question hanging in the air.

"Now?" Ranma replied, blinking.

Nabiki looked at her, incredulous. Uncontrollably, she started to laugh.

"What?" Ranma asked, irritably.

Nabiki smiled and put a hand to Ranma's face; the move stopped Ranma cold. "You know, for spending so long as a girl, for becoming an actress and studying people and the way they move and think, for all of that… you can still be a clueless boy sometimes." Ranma's brows furrowed in confusion at the statement; Nabiki chose that moment to act. She pressed Ranma close to herself, wrapping her hand around Ranma's waist, and kissed her on the lips.

It took a moment for Ranma to respond; once she did, however, the moment became electric for Nabiki. How long had she kept this bottled inside herself, for so long an outsider to a world that couldn't understand her, couldn't even comprehend her? And here was one of the few people who understood, the few people who knew the hells she'd lived through - because she'd shared them herself. Tears fell down her face at the joy of simple release, relief at finally reaching a safe haven.

She was right. Her sister was right. Auntie Nodoka was right. She couldn't lose Ranma again - not when there was a chance at happiness.

Eventually, they broke the kiss, and stared into each other's eyes. Ranma took a moment to recover herself. "Ah," she replied. "I see. That 'now'. Yes, you're right; I can be a clueless boy sometimes. Interesting to see I haven't lost all of it, even after all this time." She gave a rakish grin, the cocky smile Nabiki had always characterized as the essence of Ranma. "It is clear, then, that I am in need of additional tutoring, if I am to comport myself properly as a woman." She switched to the split-skirt she'd used when fighting, wearing the Chinese shirt as a loose jacket around her frame. "Also, it is clear that the lessons should be more intense, more… intimate… than before. So. Is my old tutor up to the task?"

Nabiki grinned; her eyes twinkled. "Oh, you'd be surprised at the lessons I can teach."

* * *

Nabiki had never quite understood the meaning of the term 'curfew'. There was never really a need for it. Her mother's death had forced her to grow up faster than intended, and left few options for anyone to wait at home for her. Thus, getting caught as she and Ranma entered the dojo and clinic was a new experience. She blushed, and scratched the back of her neck.

"Um… hi, sis."

Kasumi and Nodoka sat at Kasumi's desk, enjoying tea and cookies. They looked at each other carefully, as though sharing a private joke. "You know, I haven't had much practice in waiting up for my children to come home after they'd stayed out too late. I must say, it's a fascinating experience."

Nodoka tittered. "I had quite the opposite problem. My husband and child left, and it was ten years before I saw them again. That has to be some sort of record for breaking curfew."

Nabiki just stared at the two. "You two are enjoying this too much."

She felt Ranma's hand tighten in her own. "Meh, let them enjoy it."

"Speaking of enjoying…" Nodoka cast her eye at the pair, "how was your excursion?"

The two looked at each other carefully, conversations going on with their eyes. More to the point, they could see Nodoka and Kasumi's smiles widen with their conversation. Nabiki finally broke the stalemate. "I believe you are the actress of the two of us. You'd probably do a better job of explaining."

Ranma tilted her head to the side for a moment, then nodded. She blurred in an instant; a second later, she reappeared in the same spot, wearing one of Nabiki's suits. "Ms. Tendou and I have been in significant, tense, and drawn-out negotiations. After an initial fact-finding mission, an analysis of current and future trends, and a basic statement of wants and needs, the two of us have tentatively agreed on a partnership, with the details to be determined at a later date."

Nabiki put her head in her hands and groaned. "Oh, no… I haven't gotten in a relationship with one woman… I've gotten into a relationship with hundreds!"

Ranma grinned at the response. She blurred again, this time wearing a man's suit. She winked lecherously. "Who says it's just with women, sweet cheeks?"

Nabiki stopped for a moment. Her head tilted to one side. "You know, that would provide some legal basis for our relationship… and no one would begrudge a Takarazuka otokoyaku for 'living the role', so to speak." She took a step back, and eyed Ranma appraisingly. "A shame, really. I'd _love_ to see what you'd look like in a wedding dress!"

Ranma put a finger to her chin in thought. "I think the costume storage at the Revue has one we could borrow, if you wanted to see something like that." Her mouth quirked. "They certainly have enough suits for you to play the groom."

Nabiki's mouth twisted wryly. "Maybe I should dress as an actor for work one day - just to see the response."

Kasumi and Nodoka chuckled. "One advantage I knew I would have - if my child ever settled down," Nodoka fixed as baleful gaze on Ranma, "is that I might get to see her as both bride and groom." Her posture relaxed. "Though I need to ask. Is it official - or unofficial?"

Ranma looked into her mother's eyes, knowing what she was asking. She also knew that, for once in her life, acting - playing a role - would be a bad idea. She found a chair and sat down in reverse, the back of the chair between her legs. "Mom… Nabiki… I don't know." She slumped onto the backing, resting her chin on her arms. "I did mention something about details. This is one." She looked down, away from Nabiki's gaze for a moment. "The Revue doesn't want us in relationships - at least, not openly. Some actors get around that by being generally quiet about it. They have 'roommates', or 'close friends'." She looked over at Nabiki. "There's some friends I can talk to about it. Which way to go. I'll be honest, I'm not sure."

Nabiki nodded. "Like you said - details. I couldn't ask you to quit, any more than you could ask me to. It wouldn't be fair to either of us."

Ranma tilted her head to one side. "Do you mind being my 'roommate'"?

Nabiki sighed. "Details. I don't mind being your 'roommate'; that said, I might be the 'friend from out-of-town who comes in on weekends'."

"I know," Ranma nodded thoughtfully. Silence hung over the group for a moment.

Nabiki looked down at Ranma and touched a hand to her shoulder. "Ranma, I don't know the details; we'll figure those out later." She gave Ranma a look. "That said... for tonight... let's go to bed."

Ranma's eyebrows shot up, catching the implications. "You mean - now?"

Nabiki smiled gently, reminding Ranma more of her older sister. "Ranma… while we will no doubt share intimate moments with each other, when I mention 'bed'... right now, I just want someone to hold and to be next to me as I sleep, and to wake up with me in the morning. More than anything... more than sex... that's what I want - someone to be with me for a very long time. Is that all right?"

Next to them, Kasumi and Nodoka shared a glance. Ranma nodded, her eyes shining. "Let's go to bed."

* * *

 _Epilogue_

A long time ago, some performer - Ranma wasn't sure who - said that the show must go on. That, if anything, was an understatement. The show was sacrosanct, never to be disturbed. It was never about the wants or needs of the people on the stage, but the people in the audience; breaking character was a sin her pride wouldn't allow.

Despite this, as she went for her curtain call, the tears wouldn't be denied as the applause thundered around her. She accepted the orchids, wiping her tears as she waved to the crowd, acknowledging their appreciation.

It wasn't every day that a Takarazuka lead left the Revue, after all.

The curtain drew back, the spotlights dimmed; Ranma took a ragged breath, trying to keep her emotions in check.

It was done. Really done. She took a deep breath to gather herself, then walked backstage.

Congratulations and applause awaited her there as well. It showed a new side to some of her colleagues she hadn't seen before. Rivalries and jealousies existed backstage as with any other line of work, but such rivalries seemed petty and useless when one of their own stepped away. She accepted the reception with grace, taking her time to change out of her outfit for once as she stripped away her costume, not wanting the night to end, not quite wanting to let go.

Quite naturally, due to the time she'd taken to talk with colleagues, she was among the last to shower. She stepped under the shower head, turned on the tap - then screamed at the assault of cold water. She gritted her teeth and began to wash; one of the drawbacks of showering last was the hot water usually ran out by the time everyone had showered. Frequent complaints had been made to management, but they still hadn't gotten around to improving the hot water situation. She found herself shivering, her teeth chattering as she quickly washed off the grime of the day.

She was in front of the vanity in her bathrobe, still shivering, when she felt a presence behind her. She grinned without turning around; she was working on her eye makeup.

"Hey, Haruka."

Haruka smiled, and put her hand on Ranma's shoulder. "We're gonna miss you, short stuff."

Ranma snorted. "I'll miss you too, beanpole." Her eyes laughed as she opened her tube of lipstick. "You going to make Michiru an honest woman one of these days?"

Haruka looked away for a moment. "Maybe. One day." She snorted. "Maybe Michiru and I will restart that band we were in back in school, back before Takarazuka. Sounds like something fun to do once I'm done here. Of course, if we do that, we could always use a top-notch musician such as yourself..." She snorted. "So. Going to be someone's dutiful salaryman husband?"

Ranma blotted her lips with a tissue, then grinned. "Nah. Nabiki's the salaryman in the relationship; I'm just the former-actress 'trophy-wife'."

Haruka laughed at the implications. "You? A trophy wife? Now that I find hard to believe!"

Ranma finished the last touches of her makeup; she turned around in the chair. "You've met Nabiki. What do you think?"

Haruka's eyes twinkled. She opened her mouth, then stopped for a moment, her face suddenly serious. "I think this has been a long time coming - trophy wife."

"Damn straight," Ranma replied, still in jocular mode. Her mood then faded to match Haruka's.

"Haruka?"

Haruka raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

For a moment, Ranma reflected on the life she was leaving. Females they were, but there was too much guy in either of them to ever be feminine; that brusque nature played itself out in their conversation. "Thanks. For everything."

Haruka nodded. "You're welcome." She motioned toward the exit behind her. "Now get dressed. I'll walk you out."

Ranma rose from her chair and ran a hand over her outfit as it hung on its hanger. Beyond the undergarments, her outfit was a simple affair: a pair of cream-colored slacks, a matching long sport jacket - and a black turtleneck sweater. Nabiki, she knew, would get the meaning. She donned her undergarments, then looked back at the waiting Haruka.

"I gotta be me."

"Wha-" Haruka blinked for a moment; in that moment, Ranma went from barely dressed to completely attired.

Haruka snorted. "Showoff."

"Isn't that part of the business?" Ranma replied as they approached the exit. She pulled her shoes from its cubbyhole, and slipped them on her feet. She was about to open her mouth, when she paused to look around one last time.

"Kinda hard to walk away, isn't it?" Haruka asked.

Ranma shook her head. "No. This is the easiest thing in the world." She looked Haruka in the eye. "For the right person, for the right reasons? It's the easiest thing in the world." She gestured to the door. "Come on."

Haruka chuckled quietly, clearly thinking about Michiru; Ranma turned to the door, feeling Haruka's presence behind her.

The line of fans was unusually rowdy that evening; they usually were, the last night. Ranma saw the people standing at the end of the walkway, made eye contact with Nabiki, and tilted her head to the crowd. Nabiki smiled, and nodded her understanding.

Ranma made her way slowly through the line, signing autographs, shaking hands, accepting the adulation, giving her thanks. Haruka was behind her, joining in sharing with the crowd, as they gently made their way toward the end. It was a gauntlet she'd walked a thousand times before, but this time was an undulating mass of people, chaotic, electric; it seemed to take forever to make her way through.

And then... at the end, five people stared at each other. Nabiki's makeup was already ruined, though it was hard to tell in the evening's shadow. Michiru and Haruka took each other's hands and stood off to one side; this wasn't their moment - not yet. Nodoka also made her way to one side, simply content to watch.

Ranma stared into Nabiki's dark eyes. She raised a hand to touch Nabiki's cheek, to wipe the tracks of tears away, even as she fought her own tears.

Nabiki smiled, and blushed at the response. Ranma understood; for all Nabiki made a show of cool, there was a part of her still insecure, still worried, still alone within the crowd. Ranma could do something about that. She found her hand drifting downward to the curve of Nabiki's cheekbone; a gentle touch drew Nabiki's face toward her own.

The first kiss was tender, tentative, more exploration and invitation, an emotional knock on the door, a question as to how much could be shared. The first was followed by a second, more passionate embrace; Ranma found her arms wrapping around the back of Nabiki's neck, as Nabiki's wrapped around Ranma's back, as the two lost themselves within each other. Ranma dimly noted the cheering and applause around her; she didn't pay it much mind.

After a long moment, the two broke off the kiss. Ranma stared up into Nabiki's soft grin.

"Come on, Ranma," Nabiki breathed. "Let's go home."

Ranma nodded softly. She reached a hand to wipe her own tears as Michiru and Haruka led them to a nearby car; she let Nabiki guide her into the back seat, and settled into Nabiki's embrace.

The play was done, the curtain had closed, the applause had died. It was time for her to live again.

* * *

fin

Author's notes:

I will occasionally see an artist that takes a work that they'd done years earlier, in the early days of their production, and reproduces it. The purpose of the exercise is to see how they have changed and matured as an artist in that time.

That's what this work feels like to me. I first wrote a Ranma-deals-with-being-stuck work (Sunrise) when I was 20 years old. I'm now 43. (As an aside, this is one reason why I tend to laugh at the occasional criticism I get that Ranma-gets-stuck fics are done to death. I'm not disagreeing; that said, unless your name is Joseph Rispoli, Jr., Mike Termena, Rumiko Takahashi, or anyone else who wrote and posted a Ranma-gets-stuck work before March 1996, you're not going to get a receptive audience from me.) At any rate, it's interesting to see what has changed and what hasn't, what I'm willing to do, what I think is smart to do. For instance, what is sexuality like for Ranma? How much does attraction matter; how much does sex matter; how much does relationship matter? These things change over time - and the emotional impact of these things change over time. For instance, the seventeen-year-old Ranma would be ashamed at attraction to a guy along with its potential consequences; the thirty-year-old Ranma understands her attractions, but understands that healthy relationships, of friendship and family as well as of love, are more important. I couldn't have written this work as a 20-year-old; I'm not sure I could have written this work as a 30-year-old. But now… well.

I'm not sure where this came from. My guess would be a discussion within a small group of friends a couple of years ago in which the Takarazuka Revue came up; maybe a watching of Ouran High School Host Club triggered a Wiki search. But, well, somewhere in that discussion came the idea of Ranma-as-Takarazuka-actress. Once you have that picture, the backstory starts to fill in. Why is Ranma in Takarazuka? Well, what had to change in her life for that to happen? Manhood, almost certainly; becoming a Takarasienne is a massive commitment, one that would have meant being that girl 24/7 for years. Akane, also almost certainly, unless she happened to go along for the ride; while some writers would favor other fiancees such as Ukyou (Hi, Zen!), believe it or not, I tend to favor the R/A pairing outside of relationship events breaking that up. But what events would be significant enough to force Ranma away from Nerima – and what would those events have been like?

Any good story starts from a small idea bloomed large. Try to start from the large, and internal inconsistencies inevitably fracture the work; it's by starting small, and expanding from there, that a story is internally consistent.

The one bit of writing that non-writers don't quite get, I think, is research. Writing this obviously meant researching the Takarazuka Revue, its history and structure and the 'zuka school and the like - though I did make the occasional error, I know; research can only do so much. I did a bit of research on various forms of martial arts, to try to get a feel for how a martial art philosophy like the Musebetsu Kaketou would work. The other thing - and this may sound odd - was in the breakfast scene. I looked up recipes on grilled mackerel, on Japanese-style folded omelet… but the one thing that I'm taking with me is how to make good pour-over coffee. (Bit of trivia: roughly 70-80% of Jamaica Blue Mountain ends up in Japan. Great stuff, that; I highly recommend it.) I looked up how to make a good pour-over, to the point of learning how to do it myself; the results tasted so good that I put the Keurig out by the curb.

I haven't stopped writing, and don't think I ever could; besides writing-for-work stuff, there's a work in progress that I suspect will be out before the end of this year or early next, a Miraculous Ladybug fic that's about 5-7 scenes from being complete at this point. This one, well… this one I suspect is going to generate some controversy. That said, if I didn't make someone upset with my writing, I just wouldn't be me. :)

At any rate, I need to thank some people for looking over this and commenting on it over time, or participating in discussions that ultimately shaped this. MageOhki, Miriani, Aleh, Chi, Bleuette, Katar, ECSNorway, Minako, Gunnarson, Conseq, Ryu, Fosfor, Xiophen, Drakensis, Stormwalker, Gamlain, Waywren, Zen, Katrina, Ellen, Sandborn, Engels, Ucchan and Konatsu.

Finally… one other not-so-good thing about getting older: watching friends die. I had to take Chilord off of the pre-reader list after the initial draft was released in late July; he passed on August 2, after a fight with cancer. We'll miss you, Chi.

\- Nightelf  
September 15, 2018


End file.
